Colors
by DeanWinchesterFan1985
Summary: An easy hunt in Arkansas goes bad. With Sam injured and totally dependent on him, Dean fights not only to help his brother, but to overcome his own personal demons as well. Set immediately after Bloodlust. Sam & Dean angst!
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Sam never thought the impala could get any smaller but apparently he was wrong, dead wrong. Ever since they left Bobby's for the last time, ever since they had fought off the vampires and left Gordon Walker behind the tension between them had grown, and the impala's interior had shrunk to the minimum size required to hold her two passengers.

Sam was currently wedging himself against the door and hiding behind his laptop trying to ignore Dean's tightly locked jaw and white knuckles. Dean had been irritable for a couple days now, still fighting with the feelings that lingered where Gordon was concerned. Sam had been somewhat relieved when he had returned to the run down old farmhouse to see Gordon still alive, beaten to hell maybe, but still alive.

They were on their way to Arkansas now, trying to find the creature behind the ten deaths that had occured in the past three months. Locals had said something about a Bigfoot but Dean had snorted at their ideas, saying they had no idea what was lurking out in the dark, and the day a Bigfoot was found was the day he would eat his boxers.

Sam had insisted that they look into it anyway, so he was currently scanning mythical beast websites trying to find something that would fit the description that the beast had been given. So far he had come up empty handed, and the silence between them had grown heavier. Dean hadn't even bothered to turn on his favorite classic rock tunes, something Sam would gladly take in return for the silence right now.

Trying to look as if he wasn't, Sam shot another glance to his brother. Dean's posture hadn't shifted in the slightest. Dean's eyes were squinted out into the warm afternoon's sun, a few lines crinkling around his normally bright eyes, his jaw muscles bulging under his skin, anger and regret streaming from every pore in his body.

Sam looked away again, chewing on his lip as he clicked on a different link hoping that he would come up with something helpful this time. Although, after checking so many other sites his expectations weren't high.

"Find anything?"

Sam flinched at his brother's sharp tone but shook his head. "Nope, so far there has been zilch about a large hairy beast with sharp claws, pointed teeth, and an ape like face."

"I'm telling you Sam, Bigfoot doesn't exist. This hunt is pointless." Dean ground out, not relaxing his aching face muscles at all. His fingers were beginning to cramp from holding the steering wheel as tightly as he had been.

Sam looked to his brother's face, his eyes lingering on the darkening red and purple bruises, more compliments of Gordon, before staring out the windshield and shoving down his own disappointment and frustration. "People are dying, Dean."

"I know that Sam! But I'm telling you…you aren't going to find anything on a Bigfoot because the damn thing…"

"Doesn't exist." Sam finished. "Dean, you've already said that."

"Well I don't think you are hearing me Sam." Dean turned away from the road to glare at his brother, his eyes barely hiding the pain that Dean was forcing behind the coat of armor that was rapidly falling apart before Sam's eyes.

"I'm hearing you, Dean. I just think that there might be something else…something that would be real that could explain all these deaths."

"Whatever." Dean was looking at the road again, his teeth clenched even tighter than before, his eyes narrowed to slits against the sun's glare.

Sam sighed and closed his laptop, rubbing his thumb and pointer finger against his eyes to try and work out some of the weariness he felt there. His stomach grumbled loudly in the quiet impala, causing both brothers to look at it surprised.

"We'll stop in the next town. It's at least another hundred miles." Dean's tone had softened slightly.

Sam gave his brother a silent nod and looked out the window to the passing landscapes. He was growing used to the silence that had grown between them ever since John had died a little over a month ago. Dean had withdrawn, retreated into the only safe haven he had left, and constantly pushed Sam away.

Sam wasn't stupid, he knew how hard Dean was taking John's death, they were both struggling with this and the unease between the two of them was only growing instead of gradually decreasing like it should.

_Killin' that guy, killin' Meg. I didn't hesitate. I didn't even flinch. For you and Dad the things I'm willing to do or kill...it's just uh...it scares me sometimes._

It seemed like a lifetime ago that Dean had confessed that to Sam, Dean had changed so much since that day. It was true that he had never been the first one to open up and share his feelings with Sam. He had a strict 'No chick flick moments' rule, something he often put into practice when Sam wanted to get big brother to open up.

Sam sighed heavily letting his hands shift up to rub his temples as a soft pounding started there. He saw Dean shoot him a concerned look but it didn't last for more than a fraction of a second before Dean was staring out the windshield again.

"Sam." It was blunt, quick, and required an answer.

"I'm fine." Sam said softly, leaning his head against the cool glass of the window, letting his hands fall to his lap once more. He wished for once that Dean would stop worrying about him and would be concerned for himself for a change. Dean was hiding behind a wall of sarcasm and lies and it was killing him.

Dean pushed harder against the gas, gunning the engine with a deafening roar and sent the classic shooting forward in a burst of speed. Sam chewed on the inside of his cheeks, lost in thoughts and memories too horrible for him to speak out loud.

On the opposite side of the car Dean too was lost in his own thoughts, his own regrets, his own anger. A muscle in his jaw jumped slightly as he clenched his teeth together so tightly that he was sure he had heard his jaw pop. He shot Sam another look from the corner of his eye and felt anger spike through him, his fingers stretching out over the steering wheel before tightening once more.

Sam didn't seem to notice this, his head was turned towards the window, watching the many shrubs and trees pass by in a blur. The whispered last words that John had spoken were repeating themselves over and over in his mind like a broken record. He sent his brother a fierce glare, a determined glint in his eye before he gunned the engine once more adding another burst of speed to the impala's already straining engine, pushing them closer to Jasper city.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Dean grumbled as they hauled their bags into the bungalow, part of the Buffalo River Bunkhouse. Sam followed him, not complaining. The rates were within their allowable budget and it was a lot roomier than the places that they usually stayed. The front porch, although not large, had a small wicker table, accompanied by two white whicker chairs, all three faded slightly with age. The field stretched beyond the porch, into bush and weed covered vastness until it reached the banks of the river where the moss, riverweeds, and water lapped at the edges.

On the other side of the river tall dead looking trees stretched to the brightly lit sky, their bare branches waving slightly in the gentle breeze as it passed. Sam took in a deep breath, enjoying the smells and crispness of the fresh air.

"Hurry up Samantha, you're letting all the warm air out."

Sam readjusted the weight of his duffel on his shoulder before heading into the bungalow. Inside it was like a small apartment, complete with two doors, one leading to the bedroom, and the other the bathroom. A small kitchen was set up in the far corner, complete with stove and fridge. Sam made a note that they would have to go get food for meals…things that wouldn't be too hard to make. He wasn't the best cook, and Dean preferred not to cook at all if it could be avoided. Besides, Dean would probably say he couldn't remember how to cook anyway...he hadn't cooked since before Sam had left for college.

"You've got to be freakin' kidding me!" Dean's voice was coming from one of the open doors, probably the bedroom.

Sam glanced around the small living room before heading towards the sound of his brother's voice. It was indeed coming from the bedroom and Sam could see at once why Dean was complaining. There were two beds, as promised from the manager when they had checked in, but they were covered in flowery quilts.

Maroon, lilac, and forest green flowers were meshed together along the edges while a large flower with a mixture of the three colors covered the main part of the quilts. Sam held back a snicker, he had been somewhat prepared for this when he had looked this place up on the Internet but he had very conspicuously kept any details from Dean. He walked to the furthest bed and unloaded his duffel from his body, letting it fall with a soft thump to the mattress.

"At least it isn't pink, Dean." Sam said, the corner of his lip turning up.

Dean glowered at him, he didn't speak as he ripped open his duffel and grabbed some necessary items before stalking off to the bathroom, letting the door slam behind him.

Sam's smile faded quickly, he sank onto the bed beside his duffel, contemplating and trying to make sense of Dean's sour mood. He understood why Dean was upset after John's death, but Sam wasn't sure why Dean was pushing him away the way he was. They were brothers, they were supposed to be there for each other, and Dean was doing everything in his power to make sure Sam stayed far away from him.

He heard the water in the shower running and gave up trying to figure Dean out. Dean would be a while, it would give him time to go grab some groceries for their stay here, as well as ask the manager and locals about the murders that had happened around here. He scribbled a quick note and left it on Dean's bed next to his duffel, knowing Dean would see it there, before he snatched the keys from where Dean had thrown them and walked back out to the impala.

Once on the road, he headed east on Highway 74. He hadn't chosen the Buffalo River Bunkhouse for its looks, or even the spacey interior, he had chosen it for convenience. It was only a mile outside of Jasper, so shopping and locals were close, making it easier to get information.

He decided to go to the Arkansas House Boardwalk Café Riverhouse, Salon and Healthy Food Store, or also known as the Ark House. He knew that the possibilities of finding Dean's favorite foods were slim to none, but the closest place besides the Ark House was in Harrison. He didn't want to go all the way out there without Dean.

So parking the inconspicuous car Sam sauntered into the shop, looking around, and frowning slightly at the very scant variety of food available. He had a feeling he wouldn't be buying much here, and that the trip to Harrison would be necessary after all.

There was a small wall covered with dry fruits in small packages, nuts, and noodles. There were a few jars of jam and jelly as well. There was another row with seasonings and sandwich toppings, mustard, ketchup, mayonnaise and other such things…not much for quick and easy meals where he and his brother were concerned. His eyes strayed to the small refrigerated area, only two doors, like something found in a small gas station. Juices were covering most of the selves, anywhere from cranberry to grape. There was a small variety of fruits on the bottom shelf, underneath a small shelf of butter and cream cheese. The other side of the refrigerated area had frozen vegetables and frozen canned juice.

Perhaps stopping here hadn't been the best idea after all, he seriously doubted that he would be buying anything here at all. Everything the small store provided Dean wouldn't eat as everything lacked a greasy lining, and the frozen vegetables were definitely out of the question. Dean wouldn't touch those with a ten foot pole.

Another eye sweep around the small store and Sam let his shoulders sag in defeat, there was one other display and it was covered in jell-o and instant pudding. He had a feeling Dean wouldn't take too happily to those either. So, he decided, he might as well head back to the bungalow and pack Dean up in the car so they could head to Harrison and get things that Dean would eat.

Dean stepped out of the yellow and very flowery bathroom, his face twisted in disgust. He had been less than pleased when he had walked into the bathroom to see the bright yellow theme, even the toilet was yellow. The towels were yellow with orange flowers spread all over them, so hideous looking that he hadn't even wanted to touch them, although he would rather be shot a million times over before he admitted that to Sam.

The sink too had been yellow, as had the cabinet below the slightly yellowed countertop. The whole thing had been topped off with a yellow-flower-covered shower curtain. Dean swore if he saw one more flower he was going to start throwing punches. He had let out a disgusted snort when he saw the small soaps provided…flower shaped and bright yellow…they smelled of sunflowers.

So smelling like flowers, and disgusted with it, Dean stepped out of the bathroom to the empty bungalow. He was going to give Sam another purple bruise to match the first if Sam so much as mentioned that Dean smelled pretty. He was surprised to see the bungalow empty, Sam's absence very obvious.

There was a piece of paper sitting on Dean's bed next to his duffel, ruffling his still damp hair Dean made his way to the flowery bed and picked it up, quickly reading through Sam's scrawl before balling it up and tossing it in the general direction of the small trashcan with the flower on it, not caring if it made it in there or not.

With Sam out, supposedly picking up groceries, Dean wasn't quite sure what to do with himself. He was sure that he could watch some TV, finding out what crappy channels this place would pick up, but…Dean's mind trailed to the outdoors, and the mysterious deaths that occurred practically outside this bungalow…he could scout the terrain…check out the local areas for their upcoming hunt.

He wouldn't have to go far, and he'd have his phone on him in case Sam returned before he did. Making up his mind, Dean scribbled a note for Sam and pocketed his phone, before stepping outside the bungalow, not bothering to lock the door behind him. There was no point…no one else beside the managers and employees were here, and he had already specified that their room was to remain untouched during their stay.

A light rain had begun to fall, making the river's scent even heavier in the air, the dirt was turning to mud quickly. Dean pulled his jacket tighter around himself and stepped off the covered porch, heading in the direction of the river since that was where the last body had been found.

Rain splattered against his forehead bouncing off his lashes and dripping down his cheeks. Within seconds his hair was plastered to his head in a dark mess, his hands were shoved into his jacket pockets, his boots were quickly getting covered in a thick sloppy muck as he trudged forward.

The river lapped against the rocks and edges of the bank, taking bits of earth with it as it sloshed noisily back into its wet depths. Dean studied the area, his eyes scanning for any signs of supernatural. But besides a whole bunch of prints that probably belonged to the local wild elk, there wasn't anything out of the ordinary.

Discouraged Dean glared down into the murky water, his image distorted in the rippling waves. His usually handsome features wavy in the choppy river, blurred even further by the pelting raindrops that were now coming down in torrents. Dean didn't seem to notice, he was totally content to stand there in the rain, letting himself become thoroughly soaked to the skin, the rain managing to make its way down the popped collar of his jacket and down his neck.

So lost in his own thoughts, his own fears, and anger he didn't hear the return of the impala or Sam's frantic yelling a few minutes later. He just stood there looking down into his reflection, not noticing the shivers that shook his body, making his knees buckle slightly. He was alone, set on a path he never wanted to be on, one that John had put him on before John had kicked the bucket.

He was spiraling down a dark hole, into a bottomless pit without a parachute, and no one could save him. He didn't know how long he could keep on the brave face for Sam. His armor was already cracking and he was loosing the race of being able to repair the cracks before more appeared, and Sam could see right through him.

Dean's knees finally gave out on him, making him fall to the muddy ground, his hands landing in the icy water near the bank. His hands were now covered in mud and guck, but he didn't see that, all he saw was the broken and fuzzy face staring back at him from the water…his own reflection.

He was so disgusted with himself for being weak, for letting this hole inside of him consume him. Sam was right, or he had been back when they had first met Gordon Walker. Dean had tried to fill that hole with Gordon, had wanted so badly to want someone to look up to again, and Gordon had seemed like the one to fill that position.

Gordon was strong, vigilant, and wary. He was well trained and had no regrets for killing the things he hunted…much like John had been. It was something that Dean had connected to right away, Gordon hadn't been one to see the shades of gray that other people saw, like Sam. Gordon saw things in black or white with no regrets.

And then there was Sam, constantly pulling Dean into the gray areas, showing him the difference between the two. It had been Sam that had shown him that not all supernatural beings were evil, and that sometimes people can be deceiving. Sam had made Gordon reveal his true colors when Gordon had snatched Sam away from Dean's side and sliced his arm open with the blade, holding it out for the blood drinker to smell, and tempt her by holding Sam's arm right over her head.

Dean's jaw clenched as he remembered Sam's desperate and angry eyes darting back to him while the knife was held at his throat and his blood had dripped onto Lenore's face. It had been because of Sam that Dean had let Gordon go, had merely tied him up to the chair and called the authorities three days later to let them know that Gordon was tied up at the old farmhouse. He wasn't going to loose himself to the anger eating him up from the inside out, he had to hold on for Sam.

"Dean!"

The voice was distant but close at the same time, it didn't make a lot of sense in Dean's foggy brain, but still he looked up to see Sam's concerned face swim into view. Sam's eyebrows were high on his head, partially hidden by the bangs that constantly drooped into Sam's eyes. Sam's lips were pulled into a tight line as he grabbed Dean's shoulders and helped Dean to his feet once more.

"God, Dean. You're freezing!" Sam wrapped an arm around Dean's waist while he dragged one of Dean's arms across his broad shoulders. Dean offered no resistance, merely sagged against Sam as though he had lost control of his body.

Dean's hands were like ice, his skin deadly pale, his eyes lost in some far off time and place that only Sam could draw him back from. Sam ground his teeth together and slowly but surely headed back to the bungalow, his older brother at his side.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Dean was beginning to fight Sam by the time they reached the porch to the bungalow, his body still trembling from the cold, but he was pulling away from Sam's body. Although he was so weak Sam didn't have trouble keeping a hold on him. Sam tightened his grip anyway and shot his brother a hard glare before opening up the door and hauling his brother inside.

"I really should take you to the hospital, Dean."

Dean glared at him, but allowed Sam to lead him to the only chair in the room, a yellowing white one. He sank limply into it, his body felt extremely heavy for some reason. He was vaguely aware of Sam taking off his boots and removing his wet socks. Shivers continued to work their way up and down his spine, making his body tremble.

"Dean, we need to get you out of those wet clothes." Sam said looking up seriously to Dean, his eyebrows knitting together in the middle of his forehead.

Dean blinked, his eyes unfocused as he stared at Sam.

Sam sighed and stood up from his crouched position on the floor, and pulled Dean to his feet once more. Staggering slightly as Dean fell against him.

"Shit, Dean." Sam muttered under his breath and tried to steady them both. He gave up a moment later and decided to get them to the bedroom where it would be easier to work, at least he could get Dean lying down in there.

Decision made, Sam wrapped one of Dean's arms around his own broad shoulders and one of his own arms around his brother's waist and led his brother to the bedroom. Once again Dean offered no resistance, merely leaned against his brother, totally dependent on him, his head hanging limply on his neck, his chin touching his chest, his eyes blinking slowly.

"Come on Dean…help me out here dude." Sam grumbled under his breath in between sharp pants from the strain of dragging around his brother's dead weight.

Dean didn't respond.

Sam managed to drag his brother's limp form to Dean's unofficial bed, hastily brushing off Dean's duffel and got Dean to lie down on it. Dean didn't argue, didn't speak, didn't even blink as Sam struggled to get Dean's wet jeans off his legs before working on his button up and t-shirts, leaving him clad in nothing but his boxers.

Sam didn't waste time in getting Dean settled under warm blankets, the trembling soon stopped and Dean fell into an easy sleep. Sam sat on the other bed, watching Dean with guarded eyes, his mind spinning. When he had returned to the bungalow to find it empty he had panicked, he had had the car so Dean couldn't have gotten that far. But still with the way Dean had been acting…

He had scanned the area, found Dean's note and headed out into the pouring rain to find his brother. Dean's boots had left shallow prints in the mud, but they were hard to follow as they were quickly being filled with rainwater by the time Sam had headed out to the empty field.

The river had seemed the most obvious place to find his brother, that was after all where the last body had been found. Dean's note had been hasty but it had given Sam the idea that Dean had gone to scout the terrain on his own, to see the ground they would have to cover in this hunt, and possibly what they were hunting.

It was that thought that had sent Sam's heart thrumming like a humming bird. He hadn't even bothered with a jacket of his own; he had torn out of the bungalow and ran like a mad man through the field next to the porch. His eyes scanning desperately for his brother.

He hadn't felt any better when he had found him though, broken and alone out by the river, trembling as cold chills shook his body. He was so out of it by the time that Sam reached him. Sam was sure that hypothermia had set it, but from the looks of his brother now…he wasn't sure.

Dean had the comforter and several other blankets pulled up to his chin, his head turned to the side so he was facing Sam. His skin was still a little pale, but it was warmer to the touch, Sam prayed desperately that he had gotten to Dean soon enough that hypothermia hadn't set in and that Dean would be fine after a good night's rest.

Sam wasn't remotely hungry now, and grocery shopping could be put off until tomorrow when Dean was feeling better. Sam scoffed at that, what Dean was recovering from wouldn't simply go away over night, hell it hadn't gone away or even started to improve for over a month. If anything it had gotten worse with time.

Dean had become reckless, like he didn't care what happened to him, like he didn't deserve to live. Sam's head spun with the idea of loosing his brother…he wouldn't be able to handle it. He was barely holding it together over John's death…but if he lost Dean too…he wouldn't be able to handle it at all.

Mary's death…well he couldn't remember it. Sure he loved her, he had always loved her, and wished desperately at several points in his life that he had been able to get to know her. But it wasn't very painful for him because he had no memories of her, except for that time back in Lawrence, in their old house. He hadn't missed the hurt in Dean's eyes when Mary had all but ignored him and focused solely on Sam.

Then there had been Jess…her death, he remembered very clearly, and part of him still hurt deeply for her. Dean had been there for that though, had helped him get through it, something he wouldn't have been able to do if it hadn't been for Dean. Of that Sam was sure, Dean had helped him every tiny step of the way.

And things finally led to that fateful night where all three of them were holed up in that cabin in the woods, John in the other room resting and Dean opening up, confessing that the things he was willing to do or kill for his family, how it scared him sometimes. It didn't scare Sam, in fact he was grateful to his brother, grateful that Dean had ignored him and brought the colt with them to rescue John, otherwise Sam might have left some brain matter on the asphalt that day.

Then the horror of seeing Dean literally being ripped apart right before his eyes, and not able to do anything to help him. Even his abilities…they hadn't been strong enough to help his brother, and Dean had been dying right in front of him. The helpless look in Dean's eyes, the way he begged with their possessed father…the blood trickling from Dean's mouth, his head falling forward limply as Dean lost his fight with staying conscious.

And the whole car ride…well what there was of it, Sam had been tempted to watch his brother the entire time they were in the car…almost had. If it hadn't been for John. The blood had continued to fall from Dean's lips, adding more red to Dean's already crimson stained shirt. But that wasn't what had concerned Sam the most; it had been the broken look in Dean's eyes…the dead look. There had been no bit of Dean in them…almost as if Dean had already died and all that was left behind was an empty shell.

The whole hospital thing had been something else as well…seeing his brother like that…living off the machines. It was never something that Sam had handled well…he had seen Dean hurt several times because of what they did but it never got any easier. And this time Dean had almost not come back…one minute he was dying, and the next he was awake, miraculously healed, baffling the doctors and Sam alike.

John, however, had seemed totally unsurprised at Dean's sudden recovery. It had made Sam somewhat suspicious but his anger over the fact that John had mysteriously disappeared the night before overpowered that. So he had tried to pick a fight, had tried to get John to admit what he had done to both of them…so Dean could see…

Sam regretted that now, he had been somewhat shocked when John had asked them if they could not fight…said that he didn't know why the fought half the time. Just butting heads as he had put it. Sam had to admit now that most of the fights they had had were childish and stressful for everyone…but Dean especially. Sam could see that now, the hurt look in Dean's eyes when Sam and John would scream at each other, the way they wouldn't talk to each other for days afterward and it would be up to Dean to patch them together.

It wasn't fair, but that was the way it had been, and now there was nothing to patch up…because John was gone. Dean was beyond repair and all Sam could do was stand there and let his brother know that he hadn't given up on him. He would wait patiently and hope to God that Dean would patch himself together again…no one could do it but Dean.

Sam had already tried to get Dean to open up but Dean had deliberately turned the conversation against him, had made Sam feel abashed and ashamed at the way he had acted right before John had passed. It was true that he was still having issues, and he had finally admitted that to Dean…but Dean, well he hadn't said anything.

It was suffocating Dean, smothering him to the point of collapse and still he wouldn't talk to Sam about it…determined to keep up the strong front as though Sam couldn't see right through it. Deep down he was sure that Dean knew that Sam wasn't convinced about the whole 'I'm fine' front…Dean was anything but ok. So far from ok that it scared him…if he couldn't get through to his brother soon, if he couldn't get his brother to break the dark surface of his mind, of that hard shield that Dean hid behind, Sam was going to loose him. Of that, he had no doubt, but he was determined to get through to his brother long before that happened…he wouldn't loose Dean too…he couldn't.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Dean woke around noon the following day, still groggy and irritable but considerably warmer. He stumbled into the bathroom to take a hot shower while Sam busied himself with calling the coroner to see if they could come in and see the bodies of some of the most recent victims.

Dean had forgotten about the sunflower smelling soaps until he had to use them again, and as a result he came out grumpier than when he had entered it, which was saying something. Sam noticed but didn't say anything…he was too busy writing down an address when Dean took a seat next to him at the small circular table.

"So?"

"We have an appointment at three to go examine Carl Jeffrey. That gives us enough time to go grab some lunch and then head to Harrison to grab some food to keep here." Sam shrugged. "Best I could do."

Dean nodded and ran a hand through his wet hair. "Well go get cleaned up then. Maybe you haven't noticed but you don't smell so good."

Sam wrinkled his nose as he stared at his brother, he could have sworn that he smelled sunflowers when Dean had opened the door but he had held back his teasing retort. He had a feeling Dean wouldn't find it all that funny. "Fine." He huffed and stood from his seat. "Why don't you make yourself useful and try searching for what we are hunting while I'm busy getting cleaned up then?"

"That's your job geek boy."

"Yeah well I haven't found anything so maybe you can." Sam's sentence was followed by the closing of the bathroom door.

Dean groaned and turned the laptop so it was facing him. He began to look at some of the websites Sam had already saved to favorites. He scanned lazily through the lists of beasts that seemed endless…all of them with a short paragraph describing the beast and the horrors that they brought with them.

According to reports the victims were found either alone in the woods somewhere or a fortunate few made it out to the river only to bleed out. All of their eyes had been scratched out. Dean had suggested Bloody Mary again but Sam had shot that one down, not one of the victims had died in front of a mirror, or any kind of glass for that matter.

Dean had to admit that Sam had a point and now they were at a loss as to what the hell they were dealing with. Getting tired of scanning through forest creatures Dean clicked on aerial beasts. He began to scroll down once more, seemingly bored, his eyes only half focusing on the names of the creatures listed.

He stopped when he saw a picture caught his attention next to the harpy. Dean's eyes narrowed as he studied the ugly vulture body with the head of an old haggard looking woman. Sharp protruding claws were attached to the large feet and a victim was hanging limply from them as she carried him in the air. Her head was held up, her eyes blood red.

"Find something?" Sam asked stepping out of the bathroom and seeing Dean engrossed in research, a very rare occurrence.

"Maybe…what do you know about harpies?" Dean asked turning back to his brother.

Sam's eyes narrowed slightly. "Harpies?" He thought for a moment. "Not much." He finally admitted he took a seat next to Dean and looked at the screen. "Why?"

"I think this might be what we are hunting Sam." Dean said turning the computer to show Sam the picture of the harpy.

Sam frowned and pulled the laptop closer, typing quickly. Dean watched him as Sam did a search engine on harpies and finally sat back in the chair, his eyebrows disappearing into his hair.

"I think you're right Dean. I think we are facing a harpy."

"What'd you find out?"

"Well according to Greek Mythology, well one legend anyway Zeus created the harpy to take away things from the earth, but he also sent them to punish King Phineus of Thrake for giving away secrets about the Gods."

"So?"

Sam glared at him. "Well that is one legend, all of the others say that the harpies are demonic winged women with vulture like bodies. They like to torture their victims, toying with them, before they kill them. Scratched out eyes or blindness being one of them. They are said to be Hags from Hell some of Hades personal henchmen. According to another legend King Phineus was blinded by the harpies and they stole his food, befouling any remains…"

"That's just gross."

Sam gave his brother a half smile. "Yeah, well…"

"So how do we stop them?"

"Does Dad have anything in the journal?" Sam asked. He watched as Dean's eyes darkened at the mention of their father. "I can't find anything online…so I guess we could call Bobby…"

Dean continued to stare darkly at Sam, unmoving. Sam sighed and pulled out his phone, dialing the familiar number quickly and turning away from his brother so he wouldn't have to see that penetrating stare burning into him.

"Bobby…hey. No, no, we're good…just need some information…"

Dean sighed listening to the one sided conversation.

"Well, we think we are hunting a harpy…know anything about how to kill them?" Sam chewed on his lip while he waited for Bobby to answer. He turned to look at Dean, whose eyes had dropped to a small stain on the table. "Ok, yeah, that might work. Huh…do you think? Ok. No, we aren't sure. Great. Thanks Bobby!"

Sam clicked his phone shut and turned to face his brother again. Dean looked up at him slowly, his eyes still dark his finger still tracing around the small stain.

"So?"

"Bobby thinks a beheading a harpy with a blessed machete and burning the remains should take care of her."

"How are we supposed to?"

"Bobby gave us a chant that should do it Dean. Anyway, he doesn't know too much about harpies…apparently there aren't that many out there anymore."

"Hmm." Dean said absent-mindedly.

"So, I say we go get more supplies and see if this body matches up with the description of a harpy attack and then if it does we can set up to go hunt her."

"You sure that this is going to work Sam?"

Sam frowned, puzzled. "It should. Why?"

"Nothing." Dean said pushing up from the chair and walking into the bedroom, he let the door shut behind him. Sam stared after him in surprise. Something was bothering his brother, but he doubted that Dean was going to be explaining himself anytime soon.

He turned back to the laptop again, his eyes straying to the picture of the harpy. He prayed that their guess wasn't they would be going into this hunt blind and they would have a better chance of getting hurt. He was determined to keep Dean safe tonight, at any cost.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Hey guys – thank you for all the support you guys have given this story so far. I'm going to try to update as often as possible, but after this Saturday they will be longer in coming. I will be moving Sunday so my time on the internet will be limited. I thank you for your patience with this ahead of time. I will work hard to get chapters up frequently though.

Chapter 5

Sam had to do a lot of convincing and persuading to get Dean to head to Harrison with him to get groceries, Dean had flat out refused until Sam had threatened to get nothing but frozen vegetables. So Dean had begrudgingly gone along, taking the wheel as usual, his hands once again so tense they were white. Sam didn't say anything just allowed the pounding of Metallica to drive away the silence and awkwardness between them.

They stopped at Wal-Mart…Dean parking clear down at the far end of parking lot so that no one would park next to him. In fact he made sure no one would get too close by parking in the middle of two spots. He didn't look at his brother as Sam opened his mouth to say something but quickly dodged out of the car and started to walk to the building. Sam followed.

Sam knew that Dean had parked that way because he didn't want anyone to ding his doors with their own, Dean's obsession with the car was absurd, but Sam wasn't going to say anything. He doubted that Dean would see the humor at the moment, and he wasn't about to push his already testy brother.

Inside Dean dumped some junk into a their cart, and while he wasn't looking Sam snuck it out again. They didn't need so many salty crackers and squeeze cheese. They didn't need greasy hamburger patties and oven french fries. And the last item he managed to sneak out before Dean caught onto what he was doing was the beef jerky. He had had more than enough of that to last a life time.

The brothers grabbed a few frozen dinners, and Sam allowed Dean to keep the frozen pancakes, and of course the large can of coffee. Sam managed to grab a few healthier items, not that Dean was going to eat them and the two headed up to the checkout. They paid quickly, Dean didn't pay that much attention to the young cashier, or what she was putting in the bag. Something Sam was grateful for. He knew Dean would bitch and moan later, but he would deal with it then.

They stopped at the morgue on the way back to the bungalow, and once the tarp was pulled away from the poor guy's body Sam was sure he wasn't the only one who had to fight a gag. The brothers were by no means sqeamish, but even they had their limits. The condition of the body had given Sam and Dean a good idea of what they were dealing with…and neither were looking forward to actually facing the creature that had mangled the body to such a degree. The claws had literally disembowled the poor guy…his organs had been placed in a separate container. According to the poor rescue worker that had found him the organs had been strewn throughout the forest like a breadcrumb trail…and a nasty one at that.

This harpy was one evil son of a bitch and needed to be put down, and fast before she could do this to someone else. Sam had sent his brother a determined glare as they left the morgue. He would keep a careful eye on his brother tonight, make sure that Dean didn't do something stupid that would get him killed. There was no way that Sam would be able to live with himself if he let something like that happen to his brother…he'd rather eat a bullet and follow Dean to whatever afterlife awaited them. Dean seemed lost in his own thoughts and didn't talk to Sam at all on the drive back.

They returned to the bungalow and while Dean lounged in front of the TV, Sam put the food away and started a fresh pot of coffee. They still had a couple hours until nightfall, and that would be the best time to go look for the harpy.

Sam settled himself in front of the laptop trying to come up with any more information on the harpy, but coming up with nothing that they hadn't already known. It was mostly just retellings of what he had read before, although there were a few different pictures, some more computer based and some hand drawn…none of them looked the same.

He looked over to Dean who seemed to be staring blankly at a game show. Dean's eyes were unfocused which told Sam that Dean was paying no attention to the TV whatsoever. Dean had the vacant look that told Sam that Dean was a hundred miles away, lost in his own mind. Dean would never admit if something was bothering him, especially what Sam knew was really eating at Dean. He would play his usual 'I'm fine' card or Sam's personal favorite 'I'm the older brother, which means I'm always right' card.

Sam saw no point in trying to reason with Dean when he pulled either. He knew it would be a loosing battle. He knew how Dean was really handling things, and it wasn't pretty. He had been just out of sight when Dean had had his little break down at Bobby's. He had barely restrained the urge to go out there and stop Dean when Dean had taken the crowbar to the impala's trunk. It killed him to see his brother like that, but he knew on some level that Dean had needed the outlet. It was then Sam really understood why Dean had held back when he was around Sam, he had not wanted Sam to see him that way.

Dean was and always would be the older brother, constantly trying to reassure and protect, no matter what the situation. He would try to keep Sam in the dark about how he was really feeling so he could be there for Sam.

In a way it pissed Sam off to no end…Dean didn't need to put on a brave face for him, he knew how close Dean and John had been. He knew how Dean had blindly followed John's lead without argument all his life. He understood the devastation of John's death because it was enough to make Sam want to crumble. But Dean, ever the strong soldier, refused to acknowledge those feelings and instead suppressed them for Sam's sake.

Sam knew that inside this was killing his brother, suppressing those feelings wasn't helping anyone…Dean especially. Sam just didn't know how to reach his brother, the harder he tried the harder it was to get closer to him. It was like trying to hold water in cupped hands, it would always slip away between the cracks.

Sam knew Dean would crack eventually, that he would open up when the burden became too much to bear, too much for him to handle on his own and he would realize that Sam would be there to help. Sam could wait until then, he just hoped that by that time…that neither of them would be in a dire situation.

The revelation, the small revelations that Dean had given him before this whole mess had started. Like when Sam had been so angry at Dean for stopping him from going back into that burning house to get their revenge on the yellow-eyed demon and Dean's confession after rescuing John, it had been because of the hard situations they were in. Sam knew that there was no way Dean would have opened up otherwise.

Dean never had been one for the open caring sharing moments. Ever since he had been brought into this life, the life of an adult at the age of four, he had closed off the feelings that had made him childlike or vulnerable. If he had had any childhood fears, he kept them to himself…no monster was too scary, no ghost too spooky, no situation too dangerous for brave little Dean to handle.

Over the past year and half though Sam had seen some of those fears coming out of his brother, so subtle at times but they were there. The fear of flying had been the first one Sam had discovered and he had found it funny…a joke at first until he realized that Dean was serious about it. And the way that Dean had handled it…by humming Metallica, Sam smiled, man things had been so uncomplicated back then. Saving people, hunting things…the family business.

But then the revelations had come, Dean's fears had been put on display for Sam's benefit and he hadn't enjoyed it. The way Dean had looked when the yellow-eyed demon had taunted him…what the demon had said to him…Dean had tried to put up a strong front for Sam but Sam wasn't fooled. The words had sliced a hell of a lot deeper than the physical wounds had…and it had been those words that had almost destroyed his brother that night.

Sam had seen it in his brother's eyes that Dean had believed the lies that the demon had spat at him, and that had hurt Sam more than anything. He had wished desperately that he could have pulled loose from the demon's paralyzing hold and punched him in the jaw, just to shut the damn thing up. He would have strangled the life out of it with his bare hands, Dean deserved better, and to have those words of disgust, of venom, coming from John's mouth…

Sam dropped the line of thought, he didn't want to finish it. He knew what it had done to Dean, he knew how badly it had hurt him, how badly it still did. Dean had woken up from his coma and not half an hour later John was dead. They hadn't had a lot of time to talk, and Sam doubted that John would have said anything about that night, he had no idea what his last words to Dean would have been, but he knew that John had wanted to talk to Dean alone…which is why he had sent Sam for a cup of coffee.

Dean never spoke about that, but there was an almost heated look in his eye at times when he looked at Sam. It was unnerving, Sam wasn't sure why Dean looked at him like that, as if he was expecting Sam to jump on him or something. That was rare though, and it was only when he thought Sam wasn't looking…Sam was lucky at all to see anything except for the dead look that seemed to be permanent in Dean's eyes.

"Sam…"

Sam looked to his brother who was shrugging into a jacket and looking at the notes Sam had scribbled onto a piece of scrap paper. He held a machete in his hands, obviously getting ready to bless the weapon so it would kill the harpy tonight. He surprised him however when instead of blessing the weapon he stuck it into its sheath wrapped around his waist.

"Dean…aren't you…?" Sam's question went unfinished.

"Already blessed princess…while you were daydreaming. Now let's get out there and hunt this bitch." Dean stomped to the front door and pulled it open revealing the dark night. Crickets chirped loudly, and somewhere off in the distance there was a distinct splash from the river.

"You have the matches?"

"Yes Sam. We have everything we need now lets go!" Dean pointed to an extra machete sitting on the chair. "Your machete is blessed as well…now come on!"

Sam picked up his weapon and strapped it around his waist, the sheathed machete hitting against his long legs. He followed his brother out the door and into the night, his stomach churning uncomfortably. The moon was hidden behind several heavy clouds tonight leaving them little to no light there, and the harpy was a master of darkness…she could be almost impossible to see before she was on either of them, and if she got her claws into them…she could carry them off the way she had done with the others.

Sam swallowed hard and shut the bungalow door behind him…he knew harpies were supposed to be Hades personal henchmen. They were known for carrying people off to the underworld…or hell. If John did make a deal, as they both suspected even if neither were willing to talk about it, then that was where he was, and Sam had no intentions of letting Dean join him there…tonight or ever. No matter how suicidal and unstable his brother might be at the moment. Dean had protected him his whole life, and now in this vulnerable time that Dean was going through, Sam was going to be there for him. It was his turn to step up to bat for a change…and he was ready.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Thanks again guys for the support for this story – because I don't know the next time I'll be able to post. I'm going to add the next few chapters now and hope that it'll suffice until I can return.

Chapter 6

Tall, bare, and ragged trees stretched to the sky, their stripped branches seeming to claw at the darkness as a soft breeze rustled them. Sam shivered and pulled his jacket tighter around his shoulders, keeping one hand steady on the machete strapped to his waist. Dean was about ten feet in front of him, scanning the terrain, looking for any signs of the harpy.

They had been at it for a little over two hours now and still hadn't come up with anything. They had searched the trail that the last victim had been on. They had even found some particularly gruesome spots where the ground was still stained dark red and the heavy smell of copper lingered in the air.

Dean had his back to Sam, machete held out before him in a defensive posture, flashlight held in the other hand. Sam was finding it hard to see very far into the surrounding trees even with the help of his flashlight. The night was far too cloudy and the cold river had managed to form a heavy mist, which hovered a few feet above the ground.

Dean seemed unperturbed by the unconditional dampers on this hunt, if anything he seemed more determined…as if he needed to prove something to Sam…although Sam wasn't quite sure what. The soft snap of a branch sounded somewhere off to his left and he turned, his senses on full alert.

The flashlight's dull stream bounced off the trees and reflected back to Sam's eyes. He detected nothing, but that didn't mean that something wasn't out there. The possibilities of wild animals wasn't completely out of the picture, this area was well known for its elk population, they were every where. Because of this natural predators prowled the forest at night, as did tourists wanting to get a snap shot of the big animals.

Tourists often included campers, and although it was dark there were always a few that like to go out after dark to see if they could spot the elusive nocturnal animals, or the occasional potty break. Either way Sam was on his guard, he couldn't afford to let it down, not with a harpy on the loose.

Dean seemed to have seen Sam's rigid posture and was instantly at his side, his own posture defensive, machete held out before him. His eyes expertly scanned the trees before them, his lips drawn into a tight line.

They stood perfectly still for several seconds before Dean's posture loosened and Sam took in a deep breath. Obviously Dean hadn't detected anything out of the ordinary here, and even with the way Dean was acting as of late, Sam knew Dean's hunting skills hadn't been affected. If there was anything to find out there, Dean would have spotted it.

"Let's keep moving." Dean said quietly, his tone firm. He turned back to the direction he had been heading before, machete still held out before him.

Sam drew his own and followed, he kept his eyes open for any traces of movement, especially focused on the left side of him. Maybe if he hadn't been so focused on the left he wouldn't have been so surprised when the attack happened from the right. He heard Dean's panicked yell before he turned to see a large bird like animal swooping towards him. The only difference was her head, it was large, almost ape shaped. Her razor sharp teeth protruded from her beak like snout, dripping saliva onto the ground and her blood red eyes glowed brightly in the dark night. She was on him in seconds.

***  
Dean felt uneasy about this whole gig, something wasn't right here. When he had scouted the area earlier he hadn't found anything out of the ordinary but that didn't mean there wasn't anything to be found. It just meant that he hadn't looked hard enough. People had died here, several people over the course of a few months and he had no intentions of letting anyone else join that list. Whatever this thing was, harpy or other supernatural bad ass, it was going down. It was a silent vow he intended to keep.

He led the way, feeling it necessary to keep himself between whatever the hell this was and his brother. Sam seemed a little distracted, as if his mind wasn't entirely on this hunt. He didn't miss the worried glances that Sam shot in his direction and although he understood why he was finding it really annoying.

He was so close to telling Sam to knock it off before he slugged him, but didn't. He needed to focus on the hunt and arguing with Sam wasn't going to keep his mind focused. His eyes expertly scanned the area before him, dodging to the dark spots in between the tall-stripped trees. The feeling of unease had settled on his shoulders, as if foreign eyes were watching him just out of view but he couldn't pinpoint exactly where.

Behind him Sam was shuffling his feet in the debris littered on the path. Dean was finding this irritating because it was noisy and it gave away their position to anything and everything out there. It let every creature within a five-mile radius know that they were out here, and that made him tense. He felt more vulnerable knowing that their presence could easily be detected. He turned to tell Sam to pick up his feet but snapped his mouth shut when he saw his baby brother's posture.

Sam was rigid, flashlight waving over trees to Sam's left, Sam's eyes were wide, his jaw clenched. Dean stepped forward, machete ready, and inched in front of his brother, scanning for any signs of life that would cause his brother such distress.

The forest was quiet, the soft sounds of crickets chirped somewhere off in the distance and the river lapped at the banks but other than that it was quiet. Dean didn't let his guard down because of that though, distracted or not, Sam was still a hunter and if he heard something…it meant something was out there.

Dean held his stance for several more seconds, but felt himself loosen slightly when no immediate danger presented itself. He cast a knowing glance at his brother before he headed back to where he had been before, set on continuing the way they had been going. He kept his machete out; ready to strike at a moment's notice. He kept one ear focused on his brother and the other for unusual sounds in the woods.

Sam's soft shuffling had stopped, his brother's quiet pace matching his own now. Dean knew he was still moving because he had glanced over his shoulder to check on his brother. Sam had his own machete out now, his eyes drawn to the woods on the left, his jaw still tight, his shoulders still rigid. His body language made Dean's own body tense automatically and he scanned the area once more before his eyes darted to the right…just in case.

It was then that he saw her…well if you could call it a her. Technically it was an it, or it was as far as Dean was concerned. The creature was massive, and he had no doubt in his mind now that he had been right, this fugly thing really was a harpy, there was no denying it.

She had a large bird like body…almost like a vulture, with long legs and exaggerated toes. Sharp talons were flung out, extended to their fullest extent and they were dark, dirty, and dangerous. The head in itself was another matter, almost hag like. The ugliest thing Dean had ever seen and he had seen plenty. Ragged gray hair was plastered to the monsters face; warts and bumps covered her almost gray skin. Her teeth were long and jagged, with sharp points at the end; saliva dripped from the corners of her mouth and fell to her feathered chest.

She was moving fast, much faster than Dean would have thought possible for a creature of her size, and she was aimed right for his brother. Dean wouldn't be able to reach him in time, Sam was still too far behind him, and she was too close.

"Sam!"

Dean's warning came too late, he watched as if in slow motion Sam's eyes turned to him before they widened in alarm at Dean's gaze and Sam turned to face the creature. He saw realization dawn on Sam's face as the harpy fell on him, her long talons grabbing Sam's shoulders in a death grip and Sam was lifted off the ground as if he were weightless.

"Son of a bitch!" Dean ran after them, keeping an eye on Sam's dangling feet as he tore through the underbrush and dodged large trees. He could see Sam struggling to free himself from the harpy's grasp, and saw a glint of silver as Sam's machete swung and connected with one of the harpy's legs.

An unearthly howl made Dean's hair stand on end and he ground his teeth together against the sound. Something heavy thudded to the woods somewhere ahead of him and his first thought was Sam was dead and it was his body but as he looked up he saw his brother still in the clutches of the harpy, she was swooping down to the ground now, seeming to struggle with her burden.

She sank lower and Dean could no longer see her, he pushed himself faster, he had to get to Sam. He heard a distant thump and then silence. But that didn't last long. After a moment he heard his brother's yell, which was growing in volume by the second, Dean didn't like the sounds of this, he ran faster.

***  
Sam didn't have time to react before the harpy grabbed him, her sharp talons digging into his shoulders, knocking him breathless for a second before the shock of her talons actually being inside his flesh wore off. He glanced down and saw the tops of the trees right below his feet and actually felt a laugh ripple through him, if this was Dean he might have passed out from the fact that he was flying. Sam realized he must be going into shock, or something, the situation was anything but funny. He could just imagine what Dean was going through right now, and that thought made him focus on the situation at hand.

He looked around him, the harpy was taking him somewhere, probably to disembowel him like she did to her latest victim, he had to stop her. He was surprised to see that he still had the machete in his hand, and even though every movement he made was agony thanks to her sharp talons, he lifted his heavy arm and swiped at the only part of her he could reach. He made a wild swing with the machete towards the only place he could really reach. The leg holding his left shoulder. Metal sliced through tendon and bone, the harpy screeched in angrily as her claw released its death hold from Sam's shoulder and fell to the forest below.

Immediately Sam felt the creature shift into a steep dive, his stomach jumping into his throat at the sudden change of direction. He could see a large clearing in the trees up ahead, clearly what the harpy was aiming for, and breathed a sigh of relief. On the ground he would have a better chance of defending himself.

About ten feet from the ground, the harpy suddenly released him. He hit several branches and landed with a hard thump to the forest floor, completely winded and stunned. He hadn't been expecting that little manuver. He lay there for several seconds trying to focus on getting oxygen into his straining lungs, but was finding it hard to breathe around the pain in his back. He couldn't see very far around him and had no idea where the harpy had gone, if she was waiting for him. Or worse, if she had gone after Dean.

That thought forced the pain in his back aside and he drew in a shaky gasp. The thought of the bitch going after his brother was enough to put him on full defensive mode and he was ready to face her. He realized after a moment though, that he had lost his machete during the fall. He scanned the area for the weapon desperately, hoping to find it before she found him. Knowing that without it he was an easy meal…or whatever she wanted to do with him.

Still achy from his free harpy ride and uncomfortable landing Sam searched on his hands and knees for the sharp blade, but couldn't find it. His hands brushed through the dirt and dead leaves frantically, his eyes scanning for any sign of silver in the almost nonexistent moonlight. But there wasn't anything, and he was feeling very alone. Where was Dean?

A sound from behind him had him turn, and his eyes widened in horror as he saw the harpy on top of him. She leaped, landing on his chest and knocking the wind from him once more, her sharp talons from her one leg ripping into his shirt and tearing at the tender flesh on his chest. He let out a yell of agony as warm blood began to trickle out of the wounds. Adrenaline coursed through his veins as he started to panic. He had no doubt in his mind that the harpy was intending to kill him. He yelled out again as the harpy slashed at him again with her razor sharp talons. But not because of the pain, although it hurt like hell, but because of Dean. He didn't know if he would make it here on time, if Sam would still be alive when Dean made it. He didn't know how long he could fight off the darkness creeping into his vision.

He shut his eyes as the harpy's talons took a swipe at his face, he heard someone screaming in sheer agony, and with a shock realized that it was him. The pain was tearing him down and he found that he didn't want to fight the darkness anymore. _I'm sorry, Dean._ Then Sam Winchester knew no more.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Dean tore through the underbrush, ignoring how the long branches whipped and tore at him, not noticing the shallow scratches that appeared on his exposed skin, or the slight trickle of blood that had started. His mind was on a single track and that was his brother. Sam's yelling had stopped and that was more terrifying than the agonized screams that had been spewing just moments before…the silence was deadly.

Dean's breath was heavy, his lungs struggling to draw in enough oxygen but without much success. He was finding it impossible to hear anything besides the pounding in his ears. Somewhere in the back of his mind, a small voice told him he was too late, that Sam had already become the next victim of the harpy, and Dean would come upon his mangled corpse at any moment.

He pushed that thought aside, he had to, if he didn't his knees would buckle and he would crumple to the ground in a useless heap and he couldn't afford that now. Sam was still out there somewhere and he needed him. So he forced himself forward, machete still held tightly in his fist, although the hilt had become slippery with sweat and he found himself having to grip it tighter to prevent it from falling to the ground.

He pushed past some more tall dead trees and came to a halt…there she was. The ugly creature and she was hovering over Sam's unmoving body, dark blood was staining the front of Sam's shirt; his head was turned slightly to the side, his eyes closed.

Dean froze, forgetting how to breathe for a moment, all the blood…there was so much of it, how could Sam still be alive? But as he looked closer he saw the slight rise and fall of his brother's chest and that spurred him into action once more. He swung the machete around in his hand and charged forward letting out an angry yell as the harpy reached forward to tear at Sam with her deadly talons again.

Surprised, her head turned towards him, her red eyes suddenly narrowing in defense and she opened her mouth to let out an angry squeal. Dean's ears rang with the sound but he pushed forward, his feet barely touching the ground as he propelled himself forward to the harpy and his unconscious brother.

He swung the machete when he came close to her and managed to chip at her wing, blood started and ugly feathers fluttered to the ground. The harpy screeched and slashed at him with her one remaining claw and razor sharp talons. He dodged and they harmlessly passed through the air before him.

Her thwarted attack seemed to make her even angrier, she roared and jumped at him, he ducked and rolled out of the way. Purposefully placing himself between his helpless brother and the now seething harpy. The machete glinted as the moon peeked out from the heavy clouds and he gestured with one hand, encouraging the beast to proceed with her attack.

"Come on you son of a bitch." Dean muttered, his voice low. "Come and get it…"

She screeched and leaped again, this time her aim was true and she hit Dean's shoulder with her razor sharp claws before he could dodge out of the way. He bit back a wince as he felt the claws dig into his flesh, he could feel the warm blood flowing down his shirtfront but he ignored it. He lashed out again with his machete and this time managed to connect with her leg as she struck out to get him with her talons again.

Her angry and painful wail echoed around the surrounding trees, the foot dropped to the ground with a soft thump and writhed for a minute before falling still. The harpy looked down at her now bloody stump, it was identical to the first, courtesy of Sam's earlier attempts to free himself from her grasp. Dean grinned.

"Not so tough without your claws are you, bitch?" Dean said simply wielding the machete around again. The harpy flapped her large wings at him, hovering over the ground, unable to support herself without her legs. She snapped her teeth and screeched.

"No one messes with my brother…" Dean said angrily and charged.

The harpy flew at him at the same time her wings beating furiously, pushing him back slightly as she approached. Dean was undeterred he continued his forward charge, his blood boiling with anger and adrenaline…he swung the machete, missing her neck, which was his intended target, but managed to clip her other wing. She howled in agony and flung her long neck around, hitting him with her hard head and sent him flying forward, his forward moment was stopped by a very uncomfortable tree.

He was winded; he leaned against the rough trunk for support for a moment, trying to catch his breath. He heard the harpy screeching in agony behind him but didn't have the strength to turn and face her at the moment. His shoulder was streaming blood more heavily now; thanks to the rapid pace of his heart his blood was moving through his veins faster and therefore making him loose more in the process. The combination was making him lightheaded and exhausted. His head met the rough bark; he drew in a breath through his mouth and released it quickly. He couldn't seem to draw in enough air, it felt as if he were breathing through a straw. As a result he found himself breathing faster in an attempt to quench his desperation for air.

He felt a strong push of wind against his back and sucked in another lungful of oxygen before turning, prepping himself for another onslaught from the now enraged and wounded harpy, a deadly combination. He would be lucky to come out of this one alive if he didn't finish her off with his next blow, that one would be tricky enough as it was…she would be more cautious now. The opportunity to get to her neck would be slim, he would have to move fast.

His body was tiring quickly, but another rush of adrenaline rushed through him when he saw her approaching Sam's unmoving form. Apparently the harpy had realized that Dean was a dangerous target and was moving on to easier prey. Dean ran forward, ignoring the dizziness, ignoring the pain, big brother instincts kicking in, forcing everything else away. He let out an angered cry as he charged, and the harpy turned to him, screeching loudly as he neared her.

She backed away from Sam, eyeing the angry hunter wearily. She knew that Dean was serious business, he had already injured her three times now…this time he wouldn't be aiming so low. She snapped her sharp teeth at him and flapped her wings, lifting her body higher while stretching out her neck to give the impression that she was even larger than she appeared. Dean didn't stop or hesitate, he merely charged. The harpy rose another foot and snapped her beak a couple times, bits of saliva dripping from her teeth and landing on her forgotten target. Her large tail brushed the tops of the trees as she swung her neck low to strike at the attacking hunter.

Dean continued to charge forward, he dodged around Sam's gangly legs and closed in on her, his body once again blocking her from Sam. She swung her neck around, intending to knock Dean off his feet, but just inches away pulled short. She lifted her neck and screamed into the night. Dean kept his stance between the danger and his brother knowing all too well that although her deadly talons might be gone, she was no less dangerous. A single swing from her powerful neck could knock him off his feet and her large beak could easily crush his skull.

She could see that he wasn't going to back off and readied herself for another assault, ready to fight to the death. She fanned her wings, bringing up a heavy wind that was used to push Dean back, but he held firm to his ground and ducked, rolling forward on the ground where the wind wasn't so strong. He jumped back to his feet and swung the machete…it hit her in the chest. The harpy lost altitude as she shrieked in agony, coming closer to the ground. Dean could almost grab onto one of her large wings if he had wanted to.

Hot blood gushed from the wound, covering the ground in a large deep river of crimson. The harpy was snapping her large head around on her neck, distracted by the pain the machete had caused. Dean took advantage ofher distraction and struck again. This time his aim was true. His sharp blade connected with the harpy's neck and her head rolled limply away from her body, it bumped around on the ground a few times before stopping just short of hitting one of the trees.

Dean distracted with this never saw the swaying body, he heard the sound of something cracking and turned his head just in time to see the heavy body falling forward, directly where Sam was lying. Dean's eyes widened in horror…he ran forward and jumped falling over Sam's body just as the harpy's headless body crumpled completely and landed on him. The heavy weight shoved all the oxygen out of his lungs with a whoosh and his vision went black.

***

He didn't know how long he was out, but when his mind was able to push away from the safe haven of dark fog the pain hit him full force and he groaned. Something heavy was on top of him, making it hard to move. Feathers brushed the back of his exposed neck, and something soft was under him…he was confused…he didn't know where he was. His back hurt, his neck hurt, his shoulder was beyond description, and his head was pounding in unison with his heart.

He groaned again and pushed out with his hands only to feel one of them buckle with the force and he cursed loudly. _Damn that hurt_. Ok, try it again. Using the arm that didn't hurt so badly he pushed against the hard ground, his eyes slowly opening but it was hard to see anything. A soft grumble of thunder sounded somewhere close by and he inwardly flinched. That's not good…where was Sam?

That was when he saw him, Sam's face still lax and pale, eyes still closed and the events hit him like a punch to the gut, sending all the air from his lungs once more. He shifted out from underneath the harpy's heavy body and looked around…it was still dead…always a good sign, apparently the blessed machete had worked. Now he had to light the damn thing on fire before it started to rain, if he waited it would have a better chance of resurrecting and it would be too late.

So despite every instinct to take care of Sam, Dean got shakily to his feet, holding his injured arm to his side firmly to minimize the pain raging through his shoulder. He grabbed one of the bloody stubs that used to be the harpy's leg and pulled, it was heavier than he thought, but he ground his teeth together and put his back into it. He managed to get the body away from his brother and walked to where the head rested next to the tree line…he didn't bother to pick it up but kicked it in the direction of the harpy's body.

He pulled out his box of matches and lit one quickly before tossing it onto the harpy's corpse…just as the rain started. It was a light drizzle, but it was icy cold and made him shiver. He turned away from the burning harpy and back to his brother. Sam was exposed on the ground, his shirt offering no protection to his ripped open chest. Dean moved forward, pulling his injured arm tighter to his waist and ducked his head against the raindrops.

He fell to his knees once he got to Sam's side and studied his brother…he wasn't happy with what he saw. The wounds to his chest weren't deep…obviously the harpy had been intending to torture and not kill. They had stopped bleeding on their own, they would need to be cleaned out though when Dean got him back to the bungalow. The thing that concerned Dean the most were the long scratch marks on Sam's face, four of them to be exact.

They started on Sam's forehead and made their way over his eyelids and down his cheeks, they were deeper than the chest wounds but they too had stopped bleeding. Of course Dean didn't know how long he had been unconscious once the harpy had fallen on them. With the blood loss of his own and the exertion of fighting the beast he had been spent when the heavy weight had knocked the wind out of him.

He gently probed the wounds with a couple fingers, testing to see the extent and depth of the wounds on his brother's face. Sam didn't stir. Dean gently pulled back on Sam's injured lids, wincing as Sam flinched even in unconsciousness; they had to hurt badly to get that kind of response. He couldn't see Sam's eyes too clearly…but knew that Sam would need to see a doctor…they both needed to. Unfortunately Dean was in no condition to try and carry Sam out of here, not with his own shoulder injured.

His mind spun and he glanced briefly at his watch, wondering what time it was. He was surprised to see it closing in on midnight…how long had he been fighting the harpy? He hated to leave his brother to get help, but the bungalow wasn't far and he could travel faster on his own rather than trying to carry or drag Sam along. He could agitate wounds more easily that way and it wasn't a risk he was willing to take at the moment.

He could call for help…but…he didn't need to finish that thought. Sam was stirring, his brother groaned and shifted his head, but his eyes remained closed.

"Sam?"

Sam let out a soft breath, either of relief or pain Dean couldn't tell. He didn't answer.

"Sam!" Dean tried again.

Sam made a soft grunt and shifted his head in Dean's direction. His eyes opened briefly but closed again quickly, his face scrunching up in pain.

"Hey, hey! Take it easy Sam." Dean's hand fell to his brother's cheek without him realizing it. Sam moved into his brother's touch, finding comfort in the warm flesh. "Just relax, that bitch really did a number on you."

"Hurts…" Sam whispered hoarsely.

"I know kiddo, I know. I'm going to take care of you though…I promise you're going to be ok…I'll get you help…"

"Dark…"

"I know it's almost midnight…but if we call for help now…they can still find us before dawn…we're not that far in…"

"My eyes…dark…" Sam muttered, he was loosing his fight with consciousness again.

Dean's eyes narrowed…he didn't know what Sam meant. His eyes were dark? Was he seeing dark? Of course he was it was almost pitch black out here. He gripped Sam's arms, if he could keep Sam lucid enough to walk they could get back to the bungalow and he could get Sam to the hospital faster, it would beat waiting for a rescue team and having to explain the now large smoldering harpy remains.

"Sam…Sammy!"

Sam groaned again but turned his head in the direction of Dean's voice.

"You think you can walk?" Dean asked cautiously, but Sam didn't respond. "If I help you?"

Sam's head slowly bobbed up and down once and Dean, taking that as a yes, grabbed one of Sam's arms and wrapped it around his shoulders ignoring the pain as it flared through him like white fire. He ground his teeth together and took a step forward.

Sam tried but failed to copy him, his legs getting tangled together and both of them fell to the ground. Dean cursed again and turned Sam back onto his back. Sam coughed and wheezed.

"Shit, Sam. That isn't going to work…I'm calling for help." Dean pulled out his phone and dialed emergency. He briefly explained to the operator that he and his brother had been out camping and had encountered a large predator…something he didn't get a good look at and that both of them were injured. He was assured that help was on the way and was told to try and slow any bleeding wounds in the mean time.

Dean disconnected the line and looked to Sam, who had fallen into unconsciousness once more. He pressed a hand to his own bleeding shoulder and winced…his hand came away sticky and dark. He was loosing too much, he didn't know how far in the harpy's claws had dug into his shoulder but he could tell from the blood loss that it was serious. Black was once again swimming in front of his vision…he had to stay conscious, for him and for Sam…but even as that thought crossed his mind his eyes closed against his will and he slipped into darkness.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

He awoke again to the sound of voices, many of them, some of them calling out to someone, but he couldn't understand who. His mind seemed stuck in a fog that he couldn't pull free from and it was so dark. The voices were swimming in and out…as if they were close before they were far again, it was agitating and beyond irritating. He wished they would just shut up and leave him the hell alone.

"Hey…over here!"

Dean groaned and turned his head away from the water dripping on his face. Someone had obviously found something worth finding…maybe now they would take off and let him sleep in peace.

"He's lost a lot of blood…heavy wound to the shoulder."

Someone was poking him now, jolting his aching shoulder. He tried to smack them away, it hurt enough without someone jabbing fingers into his already burning flesh. Couldn't they just move on? Nothing to see here. He was fine.

"This other one is in a bad way…"

"Go get the others and bring in two stretchers…neither of these boys will be walking out of here."

Boys? There were two boys out here? That was sad…maybe next time they would stick closer to home. Where was Sam? Didn't he hear how much noise these people were making? Dean's mind was trying to make sense of the situation that was tipping precariously out of control. Sam must have the TV on…yes, that must be it. Dean had gotten banged up and Sam was playing doctor…that would explain the poor bedside manner. Although it wouldn't explain the cold water dripping on his face, or why the room was so cold.

"He's going into shock." Someone pushed hot fingers to his neck. "Pulse is weak…"

Someone threw something heavy over him, it was warm, it felt good. Its presence let him drift further into the darkness around him. He didn't need to worry about anything now, it was ok.

"Can you hear me? Son, can you hear me?" An unfamiliar voice was speaking to him, it was clear the man was speaking to him because he was pulling his eyelids open. He wanted to snap at him, to pull away from his touch, but he found his body too heavy. When had that happened? Did an elephant squish him?

"Let's load him up…ready? One, two three."

Dean's body shifted without him telling it to and suddenly he was floating. It was an odd sensation, he must be dreaming.

"You have the other one? Let's get them out of here."

Dean felt the comforting sway beneath him, and sank deeper into unconsciousness and didn't fight it. He heard the sound of sirens a few minutes later and then nothing. He drifted.

***  
Antiseptic…beeping…tubes…ah crap. Dean's eyes slowly opened and his beliefs were confirmed, he was in a hospital. He felt stiff and sore, his throat was parched, and his arms were too heavy to lift. One thing he didn't mind though was the absence of pain in his shoulder, it was pleasantly numb for the moment, something he was grateful for. Now where the hell was Sam?

He turned his head slowly to the left and then to the right but Sam wasn't anywhere nearby. Dean's memories were hazy, he remembered the harpy…it was going after…oh God. Dean swallowed hard, his fears and pulse rising rapidly. Had he been too late? Was Sam already? No, he couldn't believe that…he wouldn't!

The door to his room opened and a gray haired doctor entered, his eyes narrowing when he looked to Dean's protesting heart monitor. "Mr. Scott, you need to calm down."

"My brother…where's my brother?" Dean gasped ignoring the doctor.

The doctor sat down in a chair next to Dean's bed and glared at him. "He's down the hall resting, Mr. Scott, and if you don't calm down, we will sedate you."

Dean frowned, he wouldn't be any good sedated. He took a deep breath and held it, willing his heart beat to slow.

The doctor studied him for a minute before he raised an eyebrow. "I need to talk to you, Mr. Scott if I can…"

Dean nodded.

"Rescue workers found you and your brother out in the woods. You say a large predator attacked you?"

Dean nodded again. "Didn't get a good look at it though, it moved too fast."

"Well, I'd say you and your brother are lucky you came off as well as you did…you with an injured shoulder and a few bruises. Best I've ever seen in my long career…"

"How's my brother?"

The doctor frowned. "The scratches to his chest were not deep and we were able to clean and bandage them without complication. However, he had some deeper cuts to his face."

Dean winced as he remembered the four long scratches he had noticed back in the woods.

"The claws did some damage…we aren't sure if it is going to be permanent or not, but we are sure that your brother, for a time at least, will be visually impaired."

"You mean blind?!"

"The lens and corneas were damaged from whatever attacked you boys. There is a good possibility that these will heal on their own in time. We've done as much for him as we can…but we can't work miracles."

"Does he know?"

"No. He's been sedated since you two were admitted."

"When can I see him?"

"This afternoon if you feel up to it, right now you need to rest, and eat…you've been out of it for a while. I'll come and check on you in a few hours and if you've rested you can go visit your brother. He's going in for some tests now and won't be done until three so I'll come for you then." The doctor rose from his seat and quietly left the room.

Dean stared in silence at his feet. It was going to be a long morning.

***  
Sam was still sleeping when Dean was finally allowed to see him later that afternoon. Well if you could call it sleeping, the doctors were keeping him under saying that the damage to his eyes was going to be excruciating and by keeping him under they were doing him a favor. Dean had never felt more helpless, he was alone in this…even when John had passed he had had Sam right there. But now Sam was injured grievously and Dean was going to have to deal with the aftermath when Sam woke up and processed what had happened.

Sam had two large gauze pads over his eyes and those were held in place by large gauze strips wrapped around his head. Dean wasn't sure where the strips started or ended. He was mesmerized by the large pads resting over his brother's eyes, staring blankly at them.

He was told that it wasn't permanent, but that didn't mean that the doctors knew when Sam would recover his eyesight, and the possibility of Sam recovering fully was still skeptical. In fact, Sam's attending doctor told Dean that Sam had a good chance of recovering part of his eyesight but he would always need special eye drops and glasses would be a good possibility. Contacts were out of the question, for a few years at least if it came to that, Sam's eyes would be too sensitive.

Dean wished that he could resurrect the harpy so he could burn the damn thing all over again, just on principle alone. Sam had a long hard recovery ahead of him, and even then his brother had a good possibility of never being the same…and what would that mean for them?

Dean wouldn't blame Sam if he wanted to leave…if he never wanted to hunt again. This job had done nothing but hurt them, first mom, then Jess, Pastor Jim, Caleb, and John and now Sam. Sam, who had had so much potential who had so much to live for, had so much going for him. He could go back to law school and get his degree, find a nice girl and get married. Sam could have it all.

Dean's life was pretty much over, he was wanted by the FBI for a murder he didn't commit thanks to the shape shifter in St. Louis. His life had always been hunting but now he was finding it tiring. The weight of the burdens he was forced to carry were becoming too much to bear and he was falling because of it, and he wasn't trying to stay up anymore. He was tired, tired of everything. There was always going to be something to hunt out there, even if they did catch up with the yellow eyed demon. But that didn't mean that other evil creatures were just going to disappear with the demon's death.

Dean was tired of the whole hero complex…why was it his job? Why was he assigned to save all these people? Why couldn't he live his own life? Dean's eyes wandered around the large hospital room, a place that had become all too familiar over the years, maybe not this one specifically, but with as many hospitals as he had been in he realized that they were all pretty much the same. He had spent more time in hospital rooms in the past three years than most people spent in a lifetime, and he was sick of it.

He was tired of seeing his family hurting, he was tired of seeing Sam hovering anxiously over him, or vise versa. He didn't like the anxiety that the hospital stays brought from a rough hunt like this one. How many more times would they end up in situations like this one…or worse before they had had enough? If Sam ever hunted again after this hunt. Dean had let his guard down and once again Sam was paying the price.

_Look out for Sammy…I want you to watch out for Sammy…yeah Dad you know I will…_ Yeah real bang up job he had done there. Dean ground his teeth together as he studied his brother with a new fierce determination. He would help his brother get through this. He hadn't really been there for him since John's passing, but he would be there every step of the way through this new trial in his brother's life. He had to let him know that he would be behind him no matter what…nothing would change how he felt about his brother.

A moment later a nurse entered the room, she gave Dean an apologetic glimpse before she looked to the watch strapped to her wrist. "I'm sorry, but I need to change his bandages and check his eyes now. You can come back in a little bit."

Dean didn't move for a few minutes and understanding soon crossed the nurse's features as her eyes moved from Dean's dark eyes to the bandaged shoulder and the arm strapped to his chest in a sling.

"I'll take you to your room first…"

"No." Dean glared at her. "I'm staying here."

"I uh…if you're sure…" The nurse said somewhat hesitantly before she turned her attention back to Sam and began to unwind the large gauze strips binding the large pads against Sam's eyelids. Dean watched her with guarded eyes, his jaw tensing as she placed the strip in the garbage and lifted the first pad revealing the slightly puffy and red eyelid beneath. She pulled it back gently, squeezing a small bottle, making a couple drops of something Dean wasn't sure of into Sam's eye before closing the lid again and moving to the next eye to repeat the process. Once done she placed two new gauze pads on his eyes and rewrapped them with a new gauze strip.

"He'll need treatment for a while once released." The nurse said quietly to Dean when she was done. She pulled off her gloves and tossed those too into the garbage. "A few times a day…they'll help."

Dean nodded he'd do whatever he had to for his brother. Sam would be totally dependent on him until he learned to adjust to this new disability and he would be there for as long as it took. He watched the nurse leave the room before he went back to his silent vigil over his unconscious brother.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Sam remained unconscious for three days but Dean was released on the second. The wounds on Sam's face were beginning to scab over but his eyes remained badly damaged. Dean stayed with Sam as long as he could, just being close to him, hoping that his mere presence would help his brother heal.

On the morning of the fourth day, Dean entered the hospital, coffee mug in his hand and hair slightly rumpled from sleeping uneasily in a motel bed. He didn't like being away from Sam during the night, but he had tried staying the first night and met Sam's attending nurse on the night shift. Not only was she ugly but she had a personality to match. It had been a rather unpleasant night, one he had no intentions of reliving and had taken to a motel room just down the street from the hospital.

Jennifer, Sam's attending nurse for the morning shift, greeted him warmly as he made his way down the hall to Sam's room. She was short, much shorter than he was, her head barely reached his shoulder, but she was bouncy and warm, Dean liked her. She took the greatest of care while taking care of Sam and never minded in the least when Dean stuck around to watch. She explained each thing she did while she was medicating Sam's eyes so Dean would know what he had to do once Sam was released.

Dean returned her greeting before taking a large sip of coffee, whoever had invented mornings should be dragged out into the street and shot. They came much too early and lasted far too long, and what was worse was some people were actually pleasant. In Dean's opinion everyone should be cranky, it would match Dean's mood exactly. The lady at the coffee shop had acted like she should definitely cut back on the caffeine, either that or she had some small furry animal crawling through her shirt, she had been rather jumpy.

Dean made his way down the hall to Sam's room, knowing today was the day…the _**big**_ day…the day they were going to stop the sedatives and allow Sam to wake up. The day that Dean would have to deal with the consequences of Sam's injuries. It wasn't something he was really looking forward to.

He had been busy when he sat with Sam, not just sitting idle and staring at him like he had the first day. He had done his research during the day, only to go to the motel to learn more from the Internet at night. He knew Sam was going to be dependent on him, at least at first, but Sam was very independent and Dean knew that his brother would soon insist on doing things on his own. Whether he could do them or not.

Dean had spent several hours pacing around the bungalow, counting steps and guiding himself around each room with his eyes closed. He had focused mainly on the bedroom, letting his hands brush against the dressers, bedside tables, lamps and beds. He had memorized every inch of that room to give himself a better layout of the area so he could better help Sam. He had also started folding Sam's bills. Fives long ways while tens were folded a different. It was just a few small tricks he had picked up from various pamphlets and ideas for the blind.

He had made as many preparations as he could, but whether Sam would appreciate it or not was yet to be seen. Sam was the one who was actually going to be facing this new challenge…and Dean's expectations for Sam taking it well were not high. He knew how he would react and it wouldn't be pretty, he had no doubt in his mind that Sam's reaction would be similar.

Dean pushed open the door to Sam's room and took his usual spot in the hard chair next to the bed. The sedative had already been stopped, but it would be up to Sam when he would wake. The painkillers were continuing to flow through his veins thanks to the IV but Dean already had the prescriptions for the items needed once Sam was ready to check out. He had had them filled already in fact…and had the medications in a drawer in the bedside table back at the bungalow.

A stack of pamphlets sat where he had left them the night before, on the small table, some lying open while others had yet to be opened. Dean glanced at them but left them alone, he concentrated solely on Sam today, with his brother no longer on the sedative he could wake up at any time and Dean wanted to be there when Sam came to.

Dean knew that if he were the one waking up from a medicated induced slumber he would already be fighting his way to the surface, he hated being vulnerable and being in hospitals definitely qualified as being vulnerable. Sam on the other hand, was never quite on edge as Dean, not when Dean was around anyway.

Sam had the baby brother advantage in the family; Dean had always been there to protect him, or to watch over him when it was needed. He never felt the need to surface immediately from a drug-induced slumber, preferring to take his time; knowing Dean would be there when he woke. This time would probably be no different; still, Dean preferred to play safe than sorry today.

He watched his brother as the seconds ticked by, the clock on the wall was annoyingly noisy for some strange reason, the ticking seemed to echo and vibrated to louder proportions. Sam's heart monitor beeped in unison with it, Dean watched the dancing lines with scrutinizing eyes.

A soft knock sounded and Jennifer entered the room, her straight blonde hair was held back in a ponytail, the end barely touching her shoulders. Her soft blue eyes locked on Dean before falling to Sam. She walked forward into the room and gave Dean a shy smile. "No change yet huh?"

Dean shook his head. "No but Sam's always been lazy." He was joking, Sam was probably the least laziest person he had ever met. Sam was always doing something, hardly ever idle, unlike himself. After a hunt Dean liked to crash, watch some bad TV and chow down on junk food. Sam on the other hand would jump on his laptop and search for a new gig for them to check up on, they would usually be on the road by morning with a new hunt ready and waiting.

Jennifer chuckled and pulled on a pair of gloves, she began to unwind the gauze strip from over Sam's eyes and lifted the large gauze pads from Sam's eyelids. She pulled each lid back gently and squeezed a few drops of the medication into each of Sam's eyes.

Dean had gotten used to the white glaze over Sam's eyes now, the first day had been quite a shock but he was told not to worry, that it would pass, it was a result of the medication and Sam's body learning to cope to the new situation. A few weeks at most, or so the doctors hoped. It was hard though, not being able to see that familiar hazel color he was so used to, he just hoped that the doctors were right and the whiteness would disappear.

Not that it would matter, the doctors had told Dean to get Sam the darkest pair of sunglasses that he could find. Sam was to wear them most of the time to prevent further damage and strain to Sam's eyes. Dean had tried on the glasses he had picked out for Sam himself; he doubted he could have gotten anything darker.

"He's going to be ok, Dean…in time." Jennifer assured finishing the rewrapping of Sam's bandages.

Dean looked to her, his face showing his doubt at her statement. "He isn't going to take this well, it's going to be rough."

"Injuries like this always are, but Sam was lucky. Whatever it was that attacked you guys could have easily popped out an eye." Jennifer chewed on her bottom lip as she studied the pale face of Dean. She had seen the close bond between these two, it struck her as odd the way Dean stuck so close to his brother, parents yes, they were almost impossible to separate from their injured children, but siblings were usually more lax, Dean was different.

"I should have kept a better eye on him…this is my fault." Dean said so quietly Jennifer almost didn't hear him. She eyed him skeptically and opened her mouth to say something but Dean ignored her and continued as if she wasn't there. He leaned forward and grasped his brother's hand in his own. "Sammy…I'm sorry."

Getting the feeling that she was seeing something that she really shouldn't be, Jennifer quietly excused herself from Dean's presence and left the room. Dean didn't notice, he only had eyes for his brother, his hand gripping his brother's hand tighter, willing his brother to the surface.

"Sam, I'm so sorry…I never should have…I should have been…I don't know why I didn't…" Dean broke off as guilt ran over him in waves. He forced his voice to steady before he spoke again. "I can't seem to stop myself from letting everyone down can I Sammy? First with…" He swallowed hard. "With Dad…and now look at you…"

His eyes strayed to the large gauze pads over Sam's eyes and he blinked away the angry moisture in his eyes. "I swear Sammy, I'll help you through this. We will pull through this, you'll be ok, I promise."

To his surprise Sam's head turned in his direction and Sam's hand squeezed lightly back.

"Sammy? Can you hear me?" Dean leaned forward so he was closer to his brother.

"Dean…" Sam's voice was scratchy and hoarse from lack of use. He licked his lips and swallowed before attempting to speak again. "Why is it so dark in here?" Sam's hand lifted to his eyes but Dean caught it in his free one.

"Sam…Sammy, don't do that." Dean said quietly as he pushed Sam's arm back to the mattress and gathered his thoughts, trying to decide on what to tell his brother.

Sam's eyebrows squeezed together before lifting in horror. "Dean…Dean! I can't….I can't open my eyes! What's wrong with my eyes?!"

"Sam, it's ok calm down." Dean assured still holding down his brother's arms to prevent Sam from trying to tear the bandages loose from his face. "You're eyes are pretty tightly bandaged, they are healing. The harpy got you pretty good…shh…Sam it's ok…calm down."

Sam began to twist and squirm in his brother's grasp, refusing to listen to Dean's calming voice. He was rubbing the bandages against the pillow trying to tear the gauze strip away from his face. It felt funny, he didn't want it there…why couldn't he open his eyes? Why were they glued shut?

"Sam…calm down!" Dean practically growled, shifting both of Sam's wrists into one of his hands and using his now free hand to press against Sam's forehead, avoiding the area where the stitches were still in place. "Sammy, please listen to me…it's ok you need to calm down."

"Dean…I can't see…help me…it's so dark." Sam's head continued to swivel back and forth underneath Dean's hand until Dean pressed harder against Sam's forehead, pinning Sam's head in place.

"Sam if you don't calm down they are going to come in here and sedate you again…now please calm down." He turned to watch the heart monitor as it beeped rapidly, Sam's heart was racing in his chest, his breath coming in short spurts caused by the ever growing panic. "Sam…shh…I'll explain but you need to calm down first."

"It hurts…" Sam breathed in between gasps. "It hurts…"

His voice was broken and it caused Dean's defenses to fall, Dean's eyes watered again both with defeat and anger. "I know Sammy…but it's going to be ok, kiddo. You're going to be ok…we'll get through this."

Sam's head turned more fully in Dean's direction, as if he could see through the bandages and was looking at his brother, as he would have been had the gauze pads not been there. "Dean, my eyes…they hurt."

"I know kiddo, trust me I know. It'll be ok…I'll call the nurse." Dean released Sam's forehead and slammed the call button above Sam's head but quickly replaced the hand when Sam started to panic again.

"No! No! Don't leave me…Dean, don't leave!" Sam started to wheeze now as he fought to bring as much oxygen into his hyperventilating lungs as he could.

"Sam…Sammy! Listen to me I'm not going anywhere! I'm staying right here…I promise. Just calm down kiddo…you're going to be ok." Dean ground his teeth together as he watch his little brother continue to panic for several seconds before he calmed under Dean's hands.

Sam twisted his wrists free of Dean's tight grip and his hands fell limply to the bed, a moment later though one hand started inching in Dean's general direction. Dean left his hand on the bed and watched as Sam's hand searched for it, finally finding it and held it in a death grip.

"Dean…why can't I see? Why does it hurt?" Sam whispered, his voice trembled, in fact his whole body trembled. He couldn't cry, not yet anyway so his whole body seemed to be taking up the bulk of Sam's emotion.

"The harpy…she got you really good Sammy. She hurt your eyes…but the doctors say there is a good chance it won't be permanent. We can make it through this, I promise you'll be ok."

"A chance?" Sam didn't seem to hear the rest of Dean's encouraging words, his mind was lingering on those two words, they seemed so permanent. "Only a chance?"

"It's a good chance, Sammy…we can adjust." Dean encouraged. He watched as Sam's jaw snapped shut and Sam fell into silence. They remained like that until Jennifer came into the room.

"He awake?" Jennifer inquired.

Dean nodded silently.

"Maybe we should explain what's going on then, he needs to know." She looked down at Sam but didn't touch him, she knew better. Blind people didn't necessarily like being grabbed, it was startling and scary, especially if it was a stranger. Sam had never met her and she had no intentions of making herself a potential threat to this obviously distressed young man. "Sam…my name is Jennifer, I'm one of your attending nurses."

Sam's head remained where it was, facing Dean, his hand gripped tighter to Dean's hand, refusing to let go. Dean gave him a reassuring squeeze back and looked to Jennifer himself, encouraging her to go on.

Jennifer nodded, she had had situations like this before, she knew it was difficult for the patient to learn and understand what was going on. It was the main reason that Jennifer never kicked family out when telling the bad news, the patient seemed to handle it better if they had some moral support close by. She was one of the few that did it this way, other nurses left their patients on their own to deal while family members were left in the waiting area. The patients didn't handle it as well, and it took hours or sometimes days for them to cope with the situation at hand.

"Sam, when you and your brother were attacked in the woods…the animal, whatever it was, managed to damage your lens and corneas of both your eyes. However, because your eyes remained closed during the attack the damage was minimal with a ninety percent chance of a full recovery. You'll need to take special care of your eyes, and healing will be slow, but we are all sure if you do as you are supposed to things will resolve themselves."

Sam continued to remain mute. Dean, however, had noticed that Sam was trembling again. He turned his lost gaze to Jennifer, who frowned.

"Sam, because of the damage though, you won't be able to see until your eyes have a chance to heal…"

"I want to leave." Sam whispered so softly that only Dean could hear him.

"Sammy, you just woke up."

"I want to leave!" Sam said louder this time he tugged free of Dean's grasp and pushed against the mattress, over calculating his position and almost falling off. Dean caught him and straightened him, helping him to sit up against the pillows.

"Sam…"

"Dean, please. I don't want to be here. I want to go home…" Sam's voice was trembling, his chin ducked down to his chest as his hands knotted together on his lap.

Dean looked to Jennifer who looked taken aback. "When can he leave?"

"I don't…I'm not sure. Sam is still under special care…the doctors were planning on keeping him here for a few more days at least."

"No!" Sam began to push the blankets off his legs. "I want to leave!"

"Sam, stop it! You're going to hurt yourself!" Dean barked and grabbed Sam's hands once more. "Just calm down."

"I don't want to be here."

"Yeah I got that the first four times I heard it. But you need time to…"

"I can heal just as easily at home as I can here!" Sam's voice was suddenly hard and cold. It took Dean by surprise, not seconds ago Sam had sounded so lost, now he sounded pissed. He looked to Jennifer again who just nodded.

"I'll talk to his doctor and see what can be arranged." She left again.

Dean stared at his brother, his mouth setting into a hard line.

"Don't look at me like that Dean." Sam spat through clenched teeth.

"Sam, how do you know I'm even looking at you…you can't see."

"I can feel it…I don't need to see to know your pissed…it rolls off you in waves." Sam hissed.

"Well you weren't exactly polite, Sam."

"Sorry to upset your new possible lay, Dean. But I hope you don't mind if I don't stick around to listen to the show. Since I obviously can't see anything."

Dean sighed, he knew this had been coming, he had expected it. He just hadn't expected Sam's attitude to strike up his own so quickly. He forced himself to calm down, knowing this was the way Sam was coping with the situation. It was new and most of all it was terrifying to the young hunter, Dean probably would have thrown a punch or two if he had been in Sam's situation. Sam had always been more wordy though, Dean was all action.

"Ok Sam, we'll get you out of here ok?" Dean gave in, forcing his voice to take on a gentler tone.

"Dean…." Sam's voice shook with emotion, his whole body soon followed its example. "I'm…I'm sorry."

"Sammy…come on don't do this…shh." Dean grabbed Sam's shoulders as Sam leaned forward, and Sam's hands rose to latch onto Dean's arms. Dean loosened his grip and Sam leaned forward, his forehead meeting Dean's shoulder. "Sam…it's going to be ok. I promise."

"I'm scared."

"I know, that's ok though. This is new it is bound to be scary." Dean looked to the ceiling cursing any God who might be listening enough to give a damn. Why the hell did this crap always happen to them? Hadn't they been through enough?

"I'm sorry." Sam sobbed his hands tightened into tight fists, scrunching up the fabric of Dean's shirt into balls.

Dean didn't say anything just allowed Sam to let some of his emotions ride out. Eventually Sam stilled as sleep over took his exhausted body once more. Dean moved Sam back, gently laying Sam back on the pillows and brushed the long bangs away from Sam's forehead, his voice cracking when he finally spoke. "Me too kiddo, me too."


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Dean flinched as Sam bumped into the dresser for what had to be the tenth time in the last half hour alone. Sam cursed loudly before falling back, almost loosing his balance but managing to regain it at the last second by grabbing hold of the edge offending object. He patted the smooth polished surface with flat hands, searching for something, although Dean wasn't sure what and Sam was being extremely stubborn by being closed mouthed about it.

"Sam, why don't you use the stick thing that Jennifer gave you?"

"Because I don't want to Dean." Sam spat.

"Well you keep bumping into things, Sam…I think it might be…"

"I think I know that I keep bumping into things! I'm blind not stupid!" Sam turned his head in the direction of Dean's voice.

Dean frowned and turned back to the table and the endless 'How to cope' pamphlets he had been looking at. Sam's attitude ever since they had left the hospital had been hostile, Sam was angry all the time and took his anger out on Dean. Dean was trying to be patient but after three days of Sam's hot anger even he was running low on patience and was close to the snapping point.

He fought his anger down and tried to ignore Sam as Sam fumbled his way in the short gap between the dresser and beds. Sam's hand met the mattress and he sank down onto it, feeling the mattress continually until he was sure he wasn't about to fall off the edge. Once sure, he stilled, his blank eyes still pointed in Dean's direction, it made Dean shiver.

The white film over Sam's eyes was beginning to disappear now, but that didn't mean that the reality of the situation had lightened any. Sam was just as blind as ever and that seemed to irritate him. Dean was all for waiting this out, not wanting to rush Sam's recovery and possibly do more damage to Sam's eyes than necessary, but Sam was all for rushing.

Dean wasn't sure if it was because of Sam's basic instincts that he needed to see that made him want to speed his recovery along or if it was because Sam was totally dependent on Dean. After Sam's release from the hospital, and returning to the bungalow, Dean had led Sam around, running Sam's hands along the walls and tops of the furniture to help Sam learn where each object was.

Knowing it was best for Sam to get a good layout of their living area for the time being Dean had gone over it several times with his brother, but Sam had been stubborn and refused to listen. Insisting that he wasn't a baby and if he needed to find something he could do so on his own.

Dean had felt like snapping at Sam a few times, telling him to just shut up and let him help but had held it back. The last thing Sam needed right now was a brotherly quarrel between the two, he was having a hard enough time adjusting as it was. The only thing that was a constant in his life right now was Dean, and they both knew it.

Dean was there whenever Sam needed him to be, helping Sam to get out of bed first thing in the morning and into the bathroom, picking out his clothes each day and helping Sam in the shower. At meal times he would lift Sam's hands and show him where each object was, several times if need be. But it never helped.

Sam fought Dean's help with every bit of him that he could muster. Fighting tooth and nail when he got in the shower, kicking Dean away when Dean tried to help him get dressed, and knocking over his water glass or shoving the silverware to the floor with a noisy clatter at meal times.

It had led Dean to the point of being distant, knowing that eventually Sam would ask for help, but knowing that until he did Sam would continue to fight him. So he would wait, knowing it would be easier on both of them if he did.

"You still looking at those stupid pamphlets?" Sam asked not moving from his position on the bed.

Dean lifted his head, an eyebrow cocked. "Maybe."

Sam shook his head in disgust. "They aren't going to help Dean, nothing can help!"

Dean chewed on his bottom lip for a moment before he leaned back in his chair and studied his tense brother. Sam's whole body was shaking with anger, an explosion was unavoidable…had been for a couple of days, Dean was waiting for it.

"They can't help if we don't at least try to do what they suggest." Dean said calmly.

"Right." Sam scoffed sarcastically. "Because they've done a bang up job so far."

"Sam, this isn't just going to go away over night. It's going to take time."

"Oh cut the crap Dean. I'm tired of this 'self help' attitude of yours."

"Yeah well maybe I'm tired of this 'I'm fine and can do everything on my own' attitude of yours. You can't do everything on your own anymore, Sam. I think it's time you accept that."

"Oh so if you were in the same position you would be playing nice?" Sam let out a humorless laugh at that. "Don't be so hypocritical Dean."

Dean didn't answer, he knew what he would be doing if he were in Sam's position, but that was different. He was the oldest he was supposed to be the strong dependable one, the one that could always care for his brother. Weakness was not allowed in Dean Winchester's book.

"Yeah that's what I thought." Sam said breaking the silence. "You won't let me help you, won't even admit when something is bothering you. But when it comes to me I have to be all open, caring, and accepting of your help? Well guess what…"

"Sam, I never said…" Dean interrupted firmly.

"Yeah you did!" Sam smirked, but it wasn't a smirk Dean really cared for, he didn't like that look on Sam's face. "Sam, these pamphlets here will help, talking will help, you need to let go of this anger, it's only making things worse." Sam's tone was mocking; it made Dean's blood boil.

Dean ground his jaw together so tightly it hurt. Why was Sam pushing him so far? Was he trying to piss him off?

But Sam wasn't done. "Why don't you just back off Dean?! I'm not four anymore I don't need big brother to hold my hand to walk across the street, or to fight the monsters away. I don't need you to fight all my battles Dean! There are times I wish you would just back off and let me deal with them on my own!"

"Sam, I'm sorry if…"

"Maybe if you'd been paying better attention this wouldn't have happened in the first place! The harpy wouldn't have gotten me and I would be able to see. But no! You were too wrapped up, everything is always about you isn't it, Dean? How angry you are…how closed off you are…you wouldn't open up to me, wouldn't talk to me at all about Dad's death, but when I'm trying to deal with something you try and force me to open up…to be optimistic? How is that fair?"

Dean was silent, Sam had hit low and they both knew it. Sam's smile was triumphant now, waiting for the anger to come from Dean's end. He was tired of Dean being so open minded with this, so confident that things would be ok in time. He wanted Dean to get angry, he wanted to have a fight to get rid of some of these emotions that were welling up inside of him. His smile faded however when Dean didn't speak.

"Well…don't you have something to say?" Sam snapped. _Come on Dean, say something…anything. Fight, yell, hell even punch me. That would be better than the silence._

"I'm sorry Sam…" Dean's voice was rough, emotional. Sam knew at once he had pushed too far, had said something that had done too much damage and now he was going to pay for it. Dean wasn't going to fight back.

The sound of a chair scraping across the floor made Sam's heart leap to his throat, he pushed clumsily against the bed to force himself up as he heard the familiar jingle of keys as they were pulled from Dean's pocket.

"Dean, wait…"

But Dean didn't wait, didn't speak. His boots thudded against the floor, the door opened, and slammed shut behind him.

***  
Outside on the porch, Dean took in several deep breaths before he pocketed the keys again, he didn't have anywhere to go. The nearest bar was a few towns over and even as angry as he was at Sam he didn't want to put that much space between them. He stared out into the open field and the cloudy sky and made a decision, he would walk to the river and stay there for a while, calm down and come back once he knew he wouldn't try to smash Sam's jaw in.

His boots sounded heavy on the wooden porch, thudding with each step. He ignored that, he also ignored how the ground was muddy once he stepped out from underneath the covered porch. He ran a hand absent-mindedly over the impala's paint job as he passed her, something familiar in this time of confusion and worry.

He made his way to the field, his hands brushing the top of the weeds as he passed them, letting the rough ends glaze across his palms, even scratching his exposed wrists. Bugs scattered as he walked, some flying up into the air, buzzing around his head for a moment, while others scrambled out of the way of his boots.

A field mouse gathering dried seeds scampered out of his path, Dean stared at the little creature as it disappeared into the dried yellow weeds and mossy ground, before continuing onto the river. It didn't take him long to reach it, it was only a few minutes walk after all.

The river was lapping at the banks as it hurried on its way to wherever it was going. A few dark fish hovered near the sandy bottom, one swimming up to eat a fly that was hovering near the water's surface. Dean sat down on large rock, bringing his knees up to his chest and putting his head on top of them. His arms wrapped around his legs, hugging them closer as he fought to control his breathing.

The dark clouds overhead gathered together and finally let go of their heavy burden, sprinkling Dean with cool water. He didn't move as the small water drops plastered his hair to his head and ran down his neck in little rivulets, making their way down the back of his shirt.

Angry tears filled his eyes but he refused to let them fall, Sam was right. He had been so closed off after John's death, still was, drowning in his own guilt and anger even after Sam had tried to get him to open up. He hadn't done it though, he didn't want to admit how badly he was hurting, and now he was forcing Sam to do something he wasn't willing to do himself.

Sam was also right about the whole situation at hand, if he had gotten to Sam before the harpy had gotten her claws into him…then Sam would be able to see right now and he wouldn't be out here by the damn river sulking.

Dean sniffed loudly before rubbing at his nose, his body shivered, although if it was from the cold or the pent up emotions he wasn't sure. A large flash somewhere off to his right caught his eye, a loud roll of thunder soon followed. Dean drew his jacket closer around himself and continued to stare at the river. Had it only been five days ago that he had stood out here for the first time…when Sam had found him staring in the rough water? It had seemed like a lifetime ago, so much had changed since then.

He had failed, failed to keep Sammy safe. He had promised to look after Sammy, his last promise to John and look at where it had gotten him. His brother was blind and beyond pissed about it, not to mention he blamed Dean for the whole thing. Dean buried his eyes in his kneecaps and took in a deep breath ignoring the pounding rain as it hit the back of his exposed neck.

As much as he didn't want to his mind wandered back to another time and place. _You know you fight and fight for this family but the truth is…they don't need you. Not like you need them._ Perhaps there had been some truth in those words after all, Sam had made it clear that he didn't need Dean's help with this…maybe Dean should just let him be. As much as it hurt, as much as he wanted to help, maybe it was just best that he left Sam to his own devices.

Sam was just fine on his own until Dean dragged him away from Stanford and then Sam had been in constant danger. Why couldn't Dean just leave well enough alone? He was always screwing things up for everyone, putting those he loved in more danger than they needed to be, just because of his petty wants and selfish needs to be together as a family again. He swore as soon as Sam pulled through this he wouldn't stop him from going back to Stanford, Sam deserved it.

His heart crumbled at the thought but he was determined. Sam was better off without him, and it was about time he recognized that and let him go.

***  
Sam inched forward, his fingers tracing along the walls, guiding himself to the door and hopefully his brother. He hadn't heard the impala start up, so if he was lucky Dean hadn't gone too far. He could hear the rain outside pelting against the glass windows and roof. He didn't want Dean out there in the rain, and besides he felt rotten for the things he had said in anger. Dean didn't deserve that, he had done nothing but try to help Sam through this situation, but Sam had to be a jerk and had insulted him.

He had heard the hurt in Dean's voice, that was what he had been aiming for, but he had the feeling that he had pushed too hard. He hadn't expected Dean to storm off the way he had. He had never thought that Dean would leave him while he was hurting and desperate. Fight back maybe, a good punch to the face was also probable but storming out was unexpected.

Sam felt panicked, had he pushed Dean far enough that Dean wouldn't return? Had Dean taken him up on his advice and left Sam to his own devices? To deal with this new handicap on his own since Sam had said he could practically handle it on his own? Said that Dean's ministrations were doing more harm than good? That Dean wasn't helping at all?

Sam didn't know what he would do if Dean didn't come back, if Dean abandoned him right now. His heart seized in his chest at the mere thought and his lungs froze. He couldn't breathe, couldn't think, couldn't hear. All his senses seemed to freeze at the thought that Dean had taken himself out of the equation in Sam's life.

He had to find him, had to apologize, and most of all thank Dean for all the hard work he had done to make this easier for Sam. Sam would have to fight back the anger that the helplessness brought, he shouldn't take it out on Dean. It wasn't Dean's fault anymore than it was Sam's. Sam should have been more on his guard during that hunt, but he had been so preoccupied with Dean's mood that he hadn't had his head entirely in the game.

It seemed only fair that he was the one paying the price for that now. He could make Dean see that…he _would_ make him see it! If it hadn't been for Dean, Sam would have been so lost and would have given up that first day in the hospital. But when Dean had been there, had comforted him and helped him through that first night Sam knew that it was all going to be ok.

Dean had never left, Sam had been told that he was to spend the rest of the day in the hospital and he could be released first thing in the morning. Sam agreed somewhat reluctantly, not having the energy to argue with anyone, and Dean had been insistent that he listen to the doctor and Jennifer's orders.

Dean had helped him though, had gotten him to the bathroom and back, had helped him eat the disgusting hospital food, had kept him entertained, and made sure he had gotten plenty of rest. Sam had been released first thing the next morning and Dean had once again been right there, helping him to get dressed and helped him into the impala. And this was how he repaid him? Sam felt like a jerk.

His hand hit the table and the dark glasses that Dean had bought for him, accidentally knocking them to the floor. He cursed and bent down to retrieve them, his hands brushing the rough carpet, feeling several things. Some he was sure he didn't want to know what they were, but he finally found the glasses and pushed them onto his face.

His next task was to find his walking stick, while in the bungalow he had no intentions of using it but outside, where things were even less familiar he was more likely to trip and kill himself so he would use it. It wasn't hard to find, it was next to the table, leaning against the wall where he had left it. He gripped the end of it and thumped it against the wall once before turning, using the stick to help guide him to the door.

He found it a minute later and pushed it open, breathing in deeply, the scent of rain was heavy, and the pounding hitting the roof over the porch told him it was still raining. Ok…game plan. First he was going to find Dean and apologize, then he was going to stop acting like an ass and actually work with Dean to get through this, it would make things easier on both of them. But first he had to find Dean.

"You going somewhere Sam?"

Sam jumped, even with his hearing heightened Dean was still extremely quiet. Sam opened his mouth but closed it again quickly, Dean sounded strange…as if the simple sentence required tons of self-control. Dean was pissed, not that Sam didn't deserve it but it was going to make this very difficult.

Dean glared at his brother from the bottom step leading up to the porch, he made no move to continue forward to his brother. He had been somewhat surprised when he had returned from the river to see Sam with his dark glasses on and walking stick in hand on the porch, but he wasn't about to let Sam know that.

"Where were you?"

"What does it matter Sam? I'm sure you were fine on your own." Dean crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against one of the support beams.

Sam chewed on his lip. Yep Dean was pissed. "I was worried."

"I'm a big boy, Sam. I don't need a friggin' babysitter." Dean snapped and pushed off the beam, hurried up the three stairs to the porch before walking into the bungalow without sparing his brother another glance.

Sam thumped in after him, almost tripping over the threshold, but thankfully was able to grab onto the still open door to catch his balance. He pushed the door shut and leaned the walking stick next to the wall beside it. "Dean, can we talk?"

"There's nothing to talk about, Sam." Dean's voice was coming from the other side of the bungalow. Probably from the bedroom.

"Dean, I just wanted to apologize." Sam's fingers brushed against the walls as he made his way through the bungalow, hesitating when his feet bumped into something he couldn't identify.

"You don't need to apologize, Sam…you made things pretty clear. You don't need my help…"

"Dean, I'm sorry I was just…" Sam was cut off as he tried to make his way over the unknown object, miscalculating its size, tripped over it, and crashed to the floor. He cried out as something sharp cut into his hands.

"Sam! You ok? Sammy?!"

Dean's boots thudded heavily against the carpeted floor as he hurried across the room to where Sam was sprawled out on the floor. He looked at the overturned coffee table and the shattered glass that he had left there this morning. Sam was holding his hands out, blood was flowing down his fingertips.

"Dean…"

"It's ok, Sammy. Come on let's get you cleaned up." Dean twisted Sam onto his side and grabbed him by the elbows, helping him to his feet.

"I don't know what…what was that?"

"The coffee table…I told you to use that stick thing, Sam. This is why. You can't see things anymore, you can't make your way around the way you used to." Dean looked at Sam's hand and cursed when he saw a few pieces of glass shards imbedded in Sam's skin.

"I'm sorry…I just…"

"Save it, Sam." Dean cut off leading Sam to the bathroom, and pushed him harder than necessary onto the toilet seat. He pulled the first aid kit closer and dug through it searching for the tools needed to patch up his brother. He retrieved the tweezers, alcohol, and gauze. He didn't speak as he pulled the few glass shards from Sam's hands, wiped the blood from Sam's wound and fingers before cleaning it with the alcohol and wrapping it up.

Sam winced and hissed but said nothing, his hand felt stiff and sore now. He kept perfectly still as Dean wrapped his hand up in gauze, opening his mouth when he felt Dean finish but Dean didn't stick around for Sam to speak.

Dean left the bathroom again, returning again a moment later and shoving the walking stick into Sam's uninjured hand. "Use the damn thing, Sam. Stop being a stubborn ass about it." He left again then, leaving Sam alone in the bathroom, head hanging low and heart thrumming in his chest. Apologizing to Dean might be harder than he originally thought.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Sam was right; apologizing to Dean was harder than he thought. He had tried awkwardly to try and apologize a few more times to his brother, but Dean had either cut him off or ignored him completely. Sam was still sure that he wasn't completely forgiven when Dean had pulled him to the table and shown him where his water glass and utensils were. He was completely sure when he accidentally knocked over the water glass and Dean didn't help him by picking it up. The water just dripped off the end of the table and made a small puddle on the hard floor. Sam bit his lip to hold back the emotions flowing through his system.

After dinner Sam sat next to Dean on the small couch; Dean was watching some random sitcom on the tube that he was sure Dean wasn't enjoying. It was just something to help suppress the feelings he knew Dean was feeling at the moment, but that didn't mean it was helping. He could feel the way Dean was holding himself, tense and restrained, as if Dean was struggling really hard not to slug him. The only other time Dean had been this tense was when they had been hunting the vampires in Montana and Sam had been pleading with Dean to listen to him. Dean _had_ slugged him then, Sam hadn't taken it personally then, but he wouldn't blame his brother at all if he slugged him now.

Sam would welcome it at the moment, anything to get Dean to speak to him. He didn't like the way his attempts at conversation were ignored. Dean was only like this when he was really upset, and it would take a while for his brother to get over it. It put Sam on edge, knowing that the big explosion was not far away.

He had been stupid, he knew that, he shouldn't have pushed his brother so hard. He knew Dean was struggling just as much as he was with the situation, maybe even more so. He knew that Dean felt guilty for this whole thing to begin with on so many levels, and it wasn't even Dean's fault. It wasn't Dean's fault that Sam had been distracted during the hunt; it wasn't Dean's fault that the harpy had snatched Sam, and it wasn't Dean's fault that the bitch had attacked Sam's face with her razor sharp claws. Hell, if it hadn't been for Dean, Sam could have easily been killed that night. His ashes would be dancing through the empty field right now. Dean was never one for procrastination. Sam felt ill at the thought.

He couldn't imagine what Dean must have gone through, seeing him snatched and carried away by the giant birdlike creature. Or to find his body later badly damaged, and to find out that Sam's vision was gone, permanent or not. Dean was suffering the most, because he was suffering for both of them. Somehow, he had to make this right; he had to let Dean know that he didn't blame him, not at all. This wasn't Dean's fault…but knowing that himself and letting Dean know were two completely separate things. It wouldn't be easy.

The TV shut off with a click and Sam turned his head as the opposite side of the couch cushion sank a little further on Sam's side when Dean's weight left it.

"Dean?"

"I'm tired…can you get to bed on your own?" Dean's voice was cold; it wasn't really a question. Dean wasn't offering to help him.

"Yeah, I'll be fine." Sam said quietly. He waited for Dean to say something else…anything else but Dean didn't. He shuffled off to the bedroom, leaving the door open for Sam, but didn't return. Sam sat and listened to the sounds of Dean getting ready for bed, his chin dropping to his chest as his brain worked in overdrive.

His hand squeezed the top of his walking stick tightly; it was the only thing keeping him stable at the moment. Something solid, something constant. He squeezed it so tightly his hand hurt and he finally released his tight grip, letting the cane fall to the floor with a clatter but not bothering to pick it up again. He sat like that, listening.

He heard Dean hesitate in the other room, but to his disappointment, Dean didn't come back to check on him. Almost as if knowing that Sam hadn't hurt himself so there was no reason to check. Sam squeezed his eyes shut and lifted both hands to cover them, rubbing them vigorously. He had never felt more alone; he couldn't do this on his own.

The world was dark and scary now; he couldn't protect himself properly anymore. He needed to have someone there, to watch his back. But what had he done? He had taken the one person that had done so, that had been there for him every step of the way. Had guided him, showed him, supported him, and thrown it all back in his face. Now he was facing this on his own and it terrified him. More than anything else in the world…this was the scariest thing he had ever faced.

He could feel his eyes burning, but not from tears. No, his tear ducts were still damaged from the attack. No, this was the time for his medication, the medication that would dull the pain and leave him blissfully pain free for the rest of the night until he needed to be medicated in the morning once more. But he couldn't do this on his own either. He needed help, needed to convince Dean that he needed him to help him…but the challenge was getting Dean to listen to him.

Sam sighed and leaned forward, his fingers brushing along the floor until he found his walking stick once more. He grabbed it and pushed himself to his feet, letting the stick guide him through the living area and to the bedroom. He would talk to Dean, make him see reason. Apologize, get down on his knees if that was what Dean wanted, but either way he couldn't do this on his own anymore.

***  
Dean pulled off both shirts and threw them to the corner of the room, not caring at all to put the dirty garments back into his duffel. He would take care of it in the morning if he felt like it. Right now all he wanted to do was lie down in the dark and gather his thoughts. So he pulled off jeans and tossed them into the corner as well before falling onto the bed closest to the door, burying his head in the pillow.

Dean gritted his teeth as he tried to get a little more comfortable. He was angry with himself for the way he had treated Sam earlier in the afternoon, being so cold and distant. But he had done it for a reason, as much as it had pained him to do it.

After Sam had tripped over the coffee table, breaking the glass and slicing open his hand in three different spots, Dean knew that Sam would have to learn the hard way that he couldn't do this on his own. That he would have to depend on someone else to help him through this, despite the Winchester stubbornness to depend on themselves.

So Dean had watched Sam struggle all afternoon…first fumbling around trying to find the bathroom, almost busting down the door when he heard Sam fall against the counter. Watching Sam knock over his water glass, and struggling with his fork over the TV dinner that Dean had whipped up. Dean had been tempted to reach over and help Sam but once again hadn't, he couldn't give in. If he did Sam might snap like he had earlier, Dean didn't think he could handle another fight at the moment. In fact he was sure that he couldn't. He was still struggling to get over the first.

Dean pushed himself to a sitting position when he heard a loud clatter of something hitting the floor from the living area and listened intently. He let out a breath he didn't realize he had been holding until he was sure he heard the sounds of Sam's feet on the floor, meaning he wouldn't have to rush out there to find his brother in a tangle of limbs.

Dean leaned back and folded his arms across his chest while closing his eyes. His head rested against the headboard as he listened to the sounds of his brother feeling his way around the other room, slowly but surely making his way to the bedroom. Dean would wait, always in the shadows, ready at a moment's notice in case Sam needed him.

He was determined not to help him though, not until Sam came out and asked for it. It would be the best for both of them. That way Sam wouldn't fight him and Dean wouldn't have to coax. It would make it a lot more pleasant in the long run for both brothers.

Dean's eyes snapped open again when Sam bumped into the doorframe. Sam stopped, puzzled and cocked his head to one side, his blank eyes staring ahead at the wall before him, his free hand reaching out to feel the solid object.

Dean felt his mouth twitch as Sam pressed against the object for a moment before turning and walking straight for the small corner of the living area instead of into the bedroom.

"You're about to walk into the wall, Einstein."

Sam hesitated, spun around and let his cane smack the wall next to the door, feeling his way toward the opening until he finally found it. Satisfied, Sam made his way into the dark room and knocked his cane against everything as he walked, determined not to trip over anything this time.

"Dean, I need help." Sam muttered as he found his bed and sank onto the edge. Dean couldn't help but smile as Sam, the geek boy of the family, talked to the wall.

"You don't need help, Sam. You can do everything on your own."

Sam jerked in surprise from the direction that Dean's voice was coming in and turned, lifting one hand to his throbbing eyes. "Dean, please. It hurts."

Dean jumped up at that and was at Sam's side a second later. He lifted Sam's chin and peeled back the eyelids to look at Sam's bloodshot eyes. They were even painful to look at. "Ok, Sammy…just lie down I'll go get your meds." He twisted Sam's legs around so they were at the foot of the bed so all Sam had to do was lie back, and was surprised when Sam didn't even snort in disgust.

Sam merely moaned and did as he was told, his head finding the firm pillow. Dean hurried to the bathroom and opened up the small first aid kit, fishing around until he found the prescribed meds that the doctors had given him for Sam. He grabbed a small washcloth as well and returned to the bedroom.

Sam hadn't moved an inch, lying on his back, his arms by his sides, his feet barely staying on the foot of the bed, and his eyes closed. Red rings were still lingering around Sam's eyes, and the still present harpy scratches were barely starting to fade.

Dean sat on the edge of the bed and popped the lid off the first medication bottle. "Ready Sam?"

Sam nodded slightly and didn't fight when Dean pulled open his left eyelid to squeeze a few drops of medicine into the eye.

Excess water and medication squeezed out from under Sam's closed eyelid when it was allowed to close once again. Dean gently wiped it away with the washcloth before moving onto the next eye, repeating the process. Dean then moved onto the raw skin surrounding Sam's eyes, wiping some sticky goop onto the irritated and sore skin, biting his lip when Sam hissed as he hit a particularly nasty spot.

Dean wiped his fingers on an unused corner of the washcloth and opened up the last bottle, palming a couple of the painkillers and pushing them into Sam's hand. He then grabbed the cup of water that had already been sitting on the bedside table and held it ready for when Sam needed it.

Sam popped the pills into his mouth and allowed Dean to press the cup of water to his lips, swallowing the liquid down gratefully to help wash down the pills and at the same time rid his mouth of the awful aftertaste.

Dean set the still half full cup back on the bedside table before he got off the bed, he made his way to his own and sank onto the mattress. He lay quietly staring at the ceiling, his eyes roaming over the small bumps and cracks that lingered there.

Sam's breathing was deep and rhythmic, slow even. Making Dean think that his brother had drifted off into a much needed sleep. So that explained why he was so startled when Sam spoke a moment later.

"Dean…"

Dean started and let out a slow breath. He should have known that Sam wouldn't have gone to sleep. Sam always had to drag things out. He silently counted to five before answering. "Go to sleep, Sam."

Dean heard the quiver in Sam's voice as Sam spoke again. "Dean, will you listen to me…just for a minute? Please?"

Dean sat up, ready to get this over with, anger brimming within him now. He didn't want to do this, Sam wasn't apologizing for the right reasons. "I heard you already, Sam. You said plenty. You can do this on your own…that's fine. But when you manage to come to your senses and learn that maybe sometimes you can't do everything on your own I'll be waiting."

"So that's why you're angry? You think I don't know that I need you?" Sam demanded, sitting up as well although he couldn't see his brother and his eyes were still burning from the medication. "I know that, Dean…that isn't the point."

"So what is your point, Sam? Because I would like to know!"

"I'm sorry for the way I spoke to you earlier, it was uncalled for. You were only trying to help."

"That's right, I was. I was only trying to make this easier on you but…oh wait. You can do this on your own. You don't need help. I forgot."

"Dean…"

"You know ,Sam, I tried help…I tried to be supportive…hell I even went so far as preparing ahead of time to make this was as easy as possible for you. But you just had to toss it all back in my face didn't you?"

"Like you've never done that?!" Sam was suddenly very mad, why was Dean pushing him? Did he want to fight?

"I've never been ungrateful for what I have, Sam."

"That's because you've never known anything more! You've adjusted to the fact that this is your life…you think this is all you are good for!" Sam pushed himself to his feet, his voice shaking in anger now. "You don't see the possibilities of what you could be doing, Dean. You and Dad were both so hell bent on revenge that you didn't look around to see the consequences and look at where that has gotten us!"

"Oh yeah and where's that…me stuck with you in a crap motel room? Is that what this is about, Sam? If it is...the door is in the other room, don't let it smack your ass on the way out."

"You're throwing me out? That's rich."

"I'm not doing anything, Sam. If you're so tired of this gig then you can go your separate way…go back to college and marry some chick. Have kids…be normal. Just don't expect me to join you there…it isn't going to happen."

"That isn't what I want, Dean!"

"Then what is it that you do want, Sam? Because I'm tired of trying to figure it out and doing what I think you want only to get it thrown back in my face!"

"I don't know…"

"Well you might want to figure that one out, Sam, and give me a call when you figure it out." Dean rolled off the bed. He gathered the blankets from the bed and grabbed one of the pillows as well. "I'm sleeping on the couch…goodnight!"

Sam frowned as Dean's footsteps disappeared into the other room. He waited a whole five seconds before he grabbed his walking stick and followed Dean, knocking into the doorframe once more but was fairly sure that he was going in the right direction to stop Dean.

Sam let his free hand feel the wall, pushing against something solid not a foot in front of him and turned in the direction he was sure Dean was in. He cleared his throat and took a step forward, he was rewarded with the cold hard floor of the living area. "I don't want to fight for one thing, Dean."

"Fine, then don't fight."

Sam would have rolled his eyes if they hadn't hurt so bad at the moment. "Dean, come on. Knock it off."

"Knock what off, Sam? What do you want from me? You either want my help or you don't…you can't have it both ways. You need to decide if you want me to help you out with this…because I'm not going to help you if you don't want it. If you are determined to do this on your own I won't stop you but I won't be the one to pull your head out of your ass later on. You get yourself into a mess and you'll be the one getting yourself out of it."

Dean's cold tone was startling to Sam and made him step back for a moment. Shock numbed every bit of him but eventually he was able to make his jaw unlock as his brain fumbled for something to shoot back. "I want my brother back, Dean."

Dean, who had been busy preparing his makeshift bed on the couch, turned in surprise. His eyebrows shooting up and his mouth parting slightly. "What?"

Sam cleared his throat. "I said I want my brother back. I need _him_ to help me through this."

"Sam, I've been right here the whole time. What the hell are you talking about…?" Dean stopped short when Sam shook his head slowly.

"No you haven't. I mean sure part of you has been here, but, Dean, _you_ haven't been there ever since Dad died."

"Sam…don't start!"

"No Dean, listen to me…please. You've been different…reckless, even cold. You haven't been the same…you haven't been yourself at all. You put on this whole act that you're fine when you're anything but and that isn't going to help either of us…especially not now. I need _my_ brother back…"

Dean glared at his brother. "I don't know what the hell you're talking about, Sam…I'm fine. Nothing's bugging me…I told you I'm dealing with Dad's death…"

"How? By pushing me away? That isn't helping anything, Dean."

"I haven't been…"

"Want to make a bet? You won't talk to me about Dad's death, Dean. You're moody, you're quiet, you're distant, and worst of all you're downright scary when you hunt. You don't care who gets hurt in the process, just so long as you get your hunt in the bag. What's happening to you, Dean?"

"I don't need to take this." Dean said quietly crossing his arms over his chest although Sam couldn't see the gesture, Sam tensed anyway. He could hear the anger in Dean's voice…it was far angrier than Dean had been when they had faced the vampires, when Sam had confronted Dean about Gordon. He worried that this time he had pushed too far.

"Dean…wait."

"No Sam, you shut up now. You have issues with Dad's death, I know that and you know that. That's fine…you're dealing…but stop dumping your issues on me. I don't want to talk, I don't _need_ to talk and if I did you'd be the first to know. I don't bug you with the way you're dealing with Dad's death so get the hell off my back and just leave me the hell alone."

He snatched his jacket off the back of the chair where he had thrown it and stormed into the bedroom. He was back a minute later, fully dressed and shrugging into his jacket. "I'm going out for a bit. I'll be back soon."

"Dean…please, don't go."

"I'm sure you'll be fine Sam. I'll be back." Dean crossed to the door and didn't bother looking back as he pulled it open and stepped out into the frosty night, letting the door slam shut behind him.

A moment later Sam heard the impala roar and tear out of the drive, to fade off into the distance. He sank down onto the floor, letting his cane slip out of his grasp and roll away without really caring. He would wait here until Dean came back. He had pushed Dean too far this time, he knew it. He didn't know exactly where he had crossed that line but he had to be sure that Dean was really going to come back. Dean had said he would...but Sam was uncertain. He was sure Dean would never just take off on him, but he doubted that he had ever pissed Dean off so badly before. He leaned his head against the wall and felt his eyes stinging with the water he was unable to shed.

"Dean…"


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Dean leaned sideways against the bar, his legs crossed at his ankles and a beer spinning around between his fingers of his right hand. His left hand was shoved into his pocket, rubbing against the keypad of his phone. He was miserable, the beer hadn't helped at all, it hadn't drowned out even the tiniest bit of guilt that he felt when he had stormed out of the bungalow and left Sam by himself. No matter how angry he was with his brother, Sam was vulnerable and needed Dean to be there, Dean needed to get a grip and just let whatever Sam said slide off him.

He should be getting back right now, Sam was alone and probably worried sick. Dean had never taken off on him like that, and for him to take off now when Sam had been injured. That was a low blow, even for Dean. Yet Dean couldn't make himself take out his keys and head back, he was determined to stay here. For what reason he couldn't explain but here he stayed, totally miserable and uncomfortable, a full beer bottle that had yet to be opened, and locked in a guilt trip.

He didn't quite understand why he was letting Sam's anger get to him; he knew how Sam was when he was injured. He was bitchy and whined all the time; he tended to lash out at things he couldn't control. He had always been that way…so why was Dean letting it get to him this time? He had dealt with this kind of thing before, they both had, but it had never affected them like this before. It was like a nasty aftertaste that he couldn't get rid of and he didn't like it. He didn't want to be fighting with Sam and he doubted that Sam wanted to do the same.

Dean mentally kicked himself as he remembered Sam telling him specifically that he didn't want to fight, and yet they _had_ fought. Dean glanced down to his beer and pushed it away, he wasn't in the mood for it at all now. He really should get back to Sam before he did something stupid…like try to come after him. It would be just the kind of thing that Sam would do.

Dean reached into his back pocket and withdrew his wallet, thumbing through a few bills and finally finding a five. As he pulled it out a small piece of white paper caught his eye. Not remembering what it was Dean slapped the bill on the counter, and without waiting for the bartender to make his change, headed for the exit, extracting the paper and opening it.

It was a note from Sam's nurse, Jennifer…not a long one but there was a number at the bottom of it. Dean crushed the note into a wad and started to throw it in the trashcan but thought better of it and stuck it into his pocket next to his phone. He really wasn't in the mood to talk to anyone tonight, he really wanted to go back and make sure Sam hadn't killed himself before grabbing a few hours of sleep.

He pushed open the doors, drawing his leather jacket closer around himself as a cold wind greeted him. He turned up the collar of his jacket a little higher and walked faster, the sooner he got inside his baby the better. He had just stepped off the curb when he heard someone calling his name. Surprised he stopped and turned, his hands falling out of his pockets as Jennifer waved to him as she stepped out of a red 1965 mustang.

"Dean…hey!" Jennifer yelled again closing the door to her car and hurrying up onto the sidewalk.

Dean hesitated, then dropped his keys back into his pocket and walked down to meet her halfway. "Hey, Jennifer."

"You can call me Jenni…how's everything going? How's Sam?"

Dean frowned. "Don't ask."

"That bad huh?" Jennifer smiled and shook her head. "Well it has to be quite an adjustment for him, I don't know how I'd feel if I went to sleep one day and woke up the next and couldn't see. That'd scare the crap out me."

Dean nodded slowly. "Yeah…must be weird."

"So where is he?"

"Back at the motel. Didn't want to come."

Jennifer studied him for a moment, critically, but didn't say anything. He could tell that she wasn't buying his lie, but was grateful she didn't call him on it. He shifted for a moment before looking at his car and pulling out his keys once more. "Well, I should get back…"

"Right…well it was good to see you again." Jennifer smiled warmly at him and her eyes strayed to the parking lot. "Holy crap!"

Dean stepped back a bit, startled at Jennifer's sudden outburst. "What? What is it?" He turned expecting to see some freak of nature stepping out of the shadows…but saw nothing but his baby. He turned back to Jennifer, an eyebrow cocked but that quickly turned into a smile of understanding when he saw Jennifer walking forward to examine the impala more closely.

"Wow, this car is…just wow."

"Rebuilt her myself."

"She's yours?" Jennifer looked up to Dean as her hand ran over the impala's hood.

Dean nodded proudly. "Yep, she sure is. Sam complains but he just doesn't understand classic."

"I'll say…I feel the same way about my mustang. Wouldn't give her up for anything."

"I saw her…she's in really nice condition."

"Cost me a fortune to rebuild her, but she's worth it. Can't complain since I bought her at a bargain."

Dean looked over his shoulder to where the red mustang gleamed under the dull lights.

"Dean…do you mind?" Jennifer asked looking at the impala eagerly.

"No…of course not." Dean fumbled with the keys for a minute before slipping them into the lock and holding open the passenger door for Jennifer who slipped into the seat, her hands running over the fine leather upholstery.

Dean closed the door and walked around to the driver's side, settling in behind the wheel and turning to look at her. Jennifer wasn't paying attention though; she had found his box of tapes on the floor and was thumbing through them.

"Hey, Dean, do you have AC/DC's Back in Black album…oh wait…I found it." Jennifer pulled the cassette tape from the box and read the list of tracks on it.

"Classic rock fan?"

"Are you kidding…can't get enough of it. You have some of my favorite bands here."

Dean laughed softly before sticking the keys into the ignition and starting the impala up with a roar.

"Hmm…I love the sound of that purr…"

Dean grinned. "Nothing sweeter."

Jennifer popped the tape into the cassette deck and turned up the volume. Dean turned up the heat and settled back against the door. He and Jennifer stared at each other their smiles widening. Perhaps the night wouldn't be a total loss after all.

***  
Sam knocked his head against the wall for the hundredth time; he was bored and terrified at the same time. It made for a very interesting sensation in his stomach, making him want to puke and curl up into a ball all at the same time. He was counting away the seconds in his head, not sure how long Dean would be, but was determined to wait until he came back. He hoped that Dean wouldn't stay away too long, Sam had never felt more vulnerable in his life.

A buzzing from the other side of the room made him jump…was it his phone going off? He guessed that was probably what it was, he didn't know of anything else that would buzz like that. Sam pushed himself slowly to his feet, ignoring the walking stick and made his way through the room, a hand on the wall acting as his guide.

The buzzing stopped as his feet hit the couch; he winced but bent halfway, feeling for the end of the couch so he could make his way around it. He found the front of it and sat down onto the pillow Dean had dragged out there. The buzzing started again, coming from right in front of him. He leaned forward and felt with his hands, trying to locate the irritating object.

A small victory was made when he found it, answering it was another thing entirely. He managed to answer the phone without hanging up on the caller and held the phone to his ear. "Dean?" Who else would be calling him but Dean?

"Sam…hey."

"Dean…are you on your way back?"

"No, not exactly. I'm actually kind of…holy…" Dean's words were cut off as someone giggled. Sam frowned. What was going on?

"Dean…you ok?"

"I'm fine Sam. I'll be later than I thought…I'll get back when I can." Dean ended the call without saying goodbye and Sam pulled the phone away from his ear slowly, his heart sinking in his chest. Dean sounded happier, that was for sure, but that happiness wasn't directed at him, it was directed at someone else.

Sam's hand clenched the phone, his jaw tightened, he couldn't help being angry. Why did Dean get to go out and have fun and Sam was left here in the motel worried sick and helpless? It wasn't fair. Without really thinking about it Sam hurled the phone as hard as he could, getting some satisfaction when he heard a sickening smack and crunch when the phone met the opposite wall. Good. He hoped he had broken the damn thing. If his brother could have a good time on his own, then Sam could have one too.

He pushed himself to his feet once more and walked back the way he had come, hoping for the direction of the bedroom. He'd have to find a coat, but then he'd be on his own. Without Dean here to baby him he could do whatever he wanted…go wherever he wanted. He was tired of being cooped up in here…a walk to the river…yeah. He liked that. Just to get away for a bit…just half an hour would do. Dean would never know…he'd be too busy in the backseat of the impala with the chick he had hooked up with. Sam bumped into the doorframe and stumbled into the bedroom.

***  
Dean frowned as he closed his phone…he had tried calling Sam at least five times now and got nothing but voicemail. Where the hell was Sam? On the other side of the car Jennifer sat watching him, her eyes wide with worry.

"He's still not answering?"

"No, and the bad reception isn't helping either, it keeps cutting me off. Damn it! This isn't like him. He wouldn't not answer his phone if he could…" Dean's voice trailed off as he stared out the windshield to the dark night.

"What do you think could have happened?"

"I don't know but I don't like this. I need to get back there." Dean turned to face her, his face grim.

"I understand, Dean…honestly I do." Jennifer reached over and opened the handle to the door. "Thanks for showing me your car, she really is nice."

"I'll see you, Jenni." Dean promised as Jennifer shut the door and walked back to her mustang. Dean pulled the impala into reverse, backed out of his parking spot, and gunned the car forward. He had to get to Sam…something had happened…and if it hadn't and Sam was just being an ass…something would happen to him Dean would be sure of that.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Dean pressed on the accelerator, shooting the black impala forward into the darkness. He felt bad about brushing Jenni off like that, but Sam came first, always had and always would. He tried Sam's cell a few more times but every time he continued to get Sam's voicemail…it made him more anxious to get back.

As he rounded the final turn, and the bungalow came into view, he once again gunned the engine and sped down the drive to the spot they were currently calling home. The impala's tires slid on the uneven ground, but Dean ignored it, he also ignored when he shoved the gear into park without coming to a complete stop forcing the black classic to stop abruptly and groan. Dean just yanked the keys from the ignition and hurried up the three steps to the porch.

The door was ajar and the room beyond it was dark. Dean looked over his shoulder into the dark night as he pushed open the door and stepped inside shutting the door firmly behind him. His hand fumbled blindly on the wall searching for a source of light, finally finding the light switch and flipped it to the on position. His jaw dropped in shock when the dull overturned lamp's light revealed the disarray of the room.

The coffee table was once again overturned, both lamps were on the floor, and the blankets and pillow he had placed on the couch earlier were now in heaps on the floor. There was something small and in two parts on the floor at the opposite wall. What had happened when he had been gone?

"Sammy?" Dean stepped over one of the decorative couch pillows and made his way through the room. "Sam!"

Nothing. No response from Sam was not a good thing…where was he? If he had gone out on his own…Dean glanced around the room once more as if expecting Sam to be hiding in one of the corners. No little brother to be found, but the object on the floor was looking very familiar. Dean made his way to it and crouched down, sitting on his heels.

His fingers traced around the two shattered remains of what used to be Sam's phone. The keypad had split right down the middle and the screen had a large crack in it as well. God damn it Sam! No wonder he hadn't been able to get through to his brother, if Sam had thrown a temper tantrum like a two year old of course the first thing he would throw would be his phone.

Dean's hand fisted over the phone and he pocketed it, he and Sam were going to have a serious talk about this. He stood up, angry now and stormed towards the bedroom, stumbling over crumpled blankets and other strewn about objects.

The bedroom was just as dark as the living room had been; Dean ignored this and flipped on the light. The bedroom was in just a bad a shape as the living room had been. The comforters on the bed had been ripped off, a pillow was torn open…bits of feathers were still floating in the air. Feathers were scattered all over the floor, sheets were stripped from the beds and wadded up in large heaps on the floor.

The bedside tables had been knocked over, and the lamps that had been resting there were lying on their sides, their lampshades quite a distance away from them. It cast the room in eerie shadows, and in the farthest corner from the door was Sam, his knees drawn up to his chest with his head resting on top of them, while his arms were wrapped around his legs. He was rocking back and forth, muttering something that Dean couldn't make out.

"Sam…" Dean's voice cracked when he saw Sam's trembling form. He stepped into the room and wound his way around the mess that was scattered all over. Jeez, what a mess. He tripped over a duffel and cursed as his ankle twisted. He caught himself on the edge of the bed, kicked the duffel away angrily and continued on to where Sam was sitting.

Sam hadn't responded at all to Dean's entrance, it was worrying and irritating at the same time. Dean wasn't quite sure what to make out of Sam's strange behavior. He crouched down before Sam, anxiety clawing at his insides. Sam continued to rock back and forth and mutter under his breath, although now, Dean could hear exactly what Sam was saying.

"Dean is coming back…he won't leave…Dean is coming back…he won't leave…" Sam's hands tightened into fists in his denim pants.

"Sam, I'm right here." Dean reached out and grabbed the sides of Sam's face, cupping Sam's cheeks to lift Sam's head off his legs. "Sam…Sammy?! Can you hear me? Sam!"

Sam was unresponsive, even his muttering had stopped…he stared blankly ahead, blinking slowly. His lower lip trembled but tears were unable to fall, Sam's tear ducts hadn't healed enough from the attack, but Dean knew if Sam could have he would have been crying.

"Sam?" Dean tried again, brushing a thumb across his brother's warm cheek. "I'm right here…"

"Dean…don't leave…Dean is coming back…Dean stay…"

Sam wasn't talking to him, more like he was talking to himself. Dean chewed on his lip worried, why would Sam think that he wasn't come back? Dean had never left Sam, and he would never leave him while he was hurt and vulnerable.

Dean jumped as his phone went off, playing _Smoke on the Water _so loud that it echoed off the walls. Cursing, and trying to keep one hand on his brother while searching for his phone with the other, Dean succeeded in retrieving his phone and glanced at the caller ID before flipping it open and holding it to his ear.

"Jenni…"

"Dean…I was worried, I just wanted to make sure Sam was alright. You took off so fast…"

"Jenni, I'll call you tomorrow, I can't talk right now. Sam needs me."

"Ok, sure, Dean. Call me if you need anything." Jenni disconnected the line and Dean dropped his phone to the floor. He released his hold on Sam's face and grabbed Sam's shoulders. He rose to his feet, pulling Sam along with him.

"Come on, Sasquatch, let's get you to bed." Dean pulled one of Sam's arms across his shoulders and heaved Sam's large frame against himself.

Sam's knees buckled beneath him and he toppled into Dean, his whole weight sagging down on the oldest Winchester. Dean groaned but held on, tightening his grip on Sam's wrist and waist. He hugged Sam closer to him and walked slowly to the bed.

Sam's weight was like a dead body, he wasn't even trying to help. His feet dragged against the rough carpet, his head hung loosely on his neck, his chin touching his chest. His eyes were open, although blank and empty as they had been ever since his accident.

Dean sat Sam next to the wall beside the bed, leaning Sam against it in a position that would keep Sam upright. He then set to the task of redressing the bed, replacing the sheets and comforters before helping Sam onto it.

Dean pulled off Sam's socks and the one boot Sam had on…although Dean wasn't sure why it was on there, or if Sam had even noticed that he had put the boot on the wrong foot anyway. Dean dropped it to the floor and set to work on Sam's belt buckle, quickly undoing it and sliding the belt out of the loops on Sam's jeans before undoing the small clasp and sliding Sam out of his pants as well.

He left the shirt on though, figuring Sam would be more comfortable with it on than with it off. He helped Sam to lie down and pulled the comforter over Sam's shoulders. Sam shuddered slightly but didn't say anything, his mouth was opening and closing slightly, but only soft breath sounds escaped him.

Dean straightened the bedside tables and lamps, before turning off the light and leaving the room. He would go back in a bit, once he had some coffee and managed to calm down himself. He was worried sick and confused as hell. What could have happened to have put Sam in that state?

Ignoring the mess in the living room Dean walked into the kitchen, unsurprised when he saw a mess there too…Sam was never one to skip out on anything. Their food supplies were all on the floor. A box of cereal had been torn apart and scattered bits of dry cereal crunched beneath Dean's boots as he made his way to the cabinet where they were keeping the coffee.

The canister had been knocked over, but there was enough left to make one pot of coffee. Thank God because there was no way in hell he would be leaving his brother here alone tonight…or ever again if this was what was going to happen. Although it would be rather awkward having Sam sitting in the other room watching bad TV while Dean was having fun with some hot chick they ran into.

Dean placed the coffee grinds into a filter and started the coffee maker, leaning against the cupboard while he waited for the water to heat up. He took in the damage to the kitchen. The table was overturned, but both chairs remained untouched. Beside their food supply being scattered all over the floor there were a few broken dishes, the ones belonging to the owners of the bungalow, well so much for their damage deposit.

Dean closed his eyes and rubbed his thumb and pointer finger over them, willing the headache that had started to go away before it got too bad. Whatever had gotten into Sam had caused quite a stir and nothing had been left out of Sam's destructive streak. He would make sure that the damage deposit came out of Sam's funds, he wasn't going to pay for a girly temper tantrum.

Still the fact that Sam had been sitting in the bedroom trying to convince himself that Dean would indeed be returning was disturbing. Dean's bottom lip was drawn into his mouth as he retrieved a mug from the sink that he had used earlier and poured himself a cup of the steaming brew. He placed the coffee pot back on the burner to keep it warm, it was going to be a long night and he knew he could use all the coffee he could get. So with a full mug of freshly brewed and black coffee, Dean returned to the bedroom to keep constant vigil with his brother.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Around dawn Dean ran out of coffee, and by that time his nerves were so worn down that he was unable to stay in the same room with his brother. Sam had been sitting up again when Dean had returned to the room the first time, rocking back and forth on the old mattress and muttering the same phrase non stop. No matter what Dean tried he was unable to break through Sam's defenses to convince his brother that he was indeed back.

So by the time the sun was coming up and shining morning beams through the windows, Dean had left Sam in the bedroom by himself, knowing that Sam would not be going anywhere on his own. He leaned against the wall, just beside the door, one arm wrapped around his waist tightly while his free hand ran through his messy hair.

The living room and kitchen had yet to be cleaned, he was worn out from his long night with his brother, and emotions were threatening to overpower him. A muscle tightened in his abdomen, making him clench it tighter, but that did nothing but escalate it…he was finding it hard to breathe now.

His knees buckled and he slid to the floor in a heap, now clenching at his shirt just over his chest, sucking oxygen in between his tightly locked teeth. Even then the oxygen was barely making it to his lungs, barely supplying him with the much needed life source. He was loosing his brother right before his eyes and he was powerless to stop it, just as he had been powerless to stop John's death.

He had stood there, just stood by with Sam while the team of doctors had fought to bring John's limp and unresponsive body back to life. He had just stood there, motionless and in shock, clinging to his younger brother's arm to keep himself upright, clenching back the tight knot in his gut, the feeling that it should have been him on that bed.

Dean's head was in his hands, without his knowledge as to how it got there. He rubbed at his eyes and leaned his head back against the wall, fighting back the angry tears that were welling up in his eyes now. Sam shouldn't be going through this. Dean should have been there, should have stopped the harpy from getting her claws into him to begin with, should have stopped her from tearing Sam up the way she did. And most of all he should never have left him alone last night, no matter how short a time it was.

Once again he had done something stupid, and Sam was the one paying for it, and Dean had no way of getting through to him. He had talked to him, pleaded with him, but Sam had not responded. His lungs continued to burn as he pulled in the barest amount of oxygen he could.

In the other room he could hear Sam's continued chanting…the words were burning into his brain, making it impossible for him to concentrate on anything else. A part of him wanted to just grab hold of Sam and shake some sense into him, but he got the feeling that that wouldn't get him anywhere. He needed to figure out what had happened to Sam while he had been gone, the problem was the only person here last night was Sam and he wasn't in much of an explaining mood.

Sam's phone might give Dean some sort of clue as to what had happened, but unfortunately that route was definitely out…Sam's phone was in two pieces with no way of accessing any info from it.

"Dean is coming back…he won't leave…Dean is coming back…he won't leave."

"God, Sammy." Dean's head hit the wall with a hard smack. He closed his eyes fighting back the angry burn in his eyes. "I'm right here…"

"Dean is coming back…"

"Shit…" Dean pushed himself to his feet again and walked back to the entryway of the bedroom, leaning against the doorframe, his eyes locking on the still rocking figure of his brother on the bed. "What the hell happened to you Sammy?"

"Dean…please, come back."

Sam's broken cry was the last straw; Dean felt a hard lump rising in his throat and turned away. He made his way through the living room, stepping over the mess that Sam had made the previous night, the only thing Dean had bothered to fix were the lamps, they now rested on the tables where they belonged. Dean stopped by one, a finger tracing down the semi-soft material of the lampshade for a minute, fighting down emotions that would not be held back.

"Damn it!"

Dean didn't know how it happened, one minute the lamp was sitting there and the next it wasn't. It was now in a shattered pile on the floor, pieces of glass everywhere and the lampshade was rolling on its side. Dean stared at the now useless lamp in surprise for a minute, not bothering to move to clean it up.

Wow. He didn't even feel better. In fact he felt worse, so much for taking the damage deposit out of Sam's funds…he would have to chip in now. God, how was he going to get through this one? How could he help Sam when he was still so shattered himself?

Sure he lied, he lied every single day by telling Sam he was fine when they both knew he was anything but fine. Neither of them were buying it…especially Sam he could see right through it. Now Sam needed him, really needed him, and Dean was unable to provide the help that Sam needed. Instead he had lost his temper, gone out and left Sam alone when he was hurt and vulnerable.

God, anything could have happened to him! How could have been so stupid? What if it wasn't even Sam that had messed up the bungalow to begin with? What if something had come after his brother and Dean had been chatting it up with some nurse that he had only met a few times before? Sam could have been killed while he was out doing something unimportant.

Dean felt his knees buckle and he fell to the floor, amongst the shattered remains of the lamp he had just broken. He was finding it hard to breathe again, his lungs were locking down, shoving all the air out of his system, making his vision darken. He deserved it though, he deserved the pain, it kept his priorities in order, and showed him what was really important.

Fingers pulled at the short and ugly carpet, pain spiked and blood pooled onto the floor. Dean pulled back, noticing for the first time that he had actually cut himself on the broken shards of glass. He looked at the shallow cuts, at the blood oozing from the wounds. His eyes glazed over and his face went lax. He leaned against the side of the couch and closed his eyes, letting his body relax after the long night he had had.

So exhausted from the emotional roller coaster he had been riding for so long, and the sleepless night with Sam, Dean didn't even feel himself drifting off…his head dropped forward slightly, his arms fell limp into his lap and his body shut down, letting him get some much needed sleep.

***  
Sam rocked, it was comforting, it was familiar, it was the only thing keeping him together until Dean came back. He didn't know how long he had been sitting there, waiting for Dean to return, he didn't know how long Dean would be, all he knew was that Dean would be back…he was sure of it.

"Dean is coming back…he won't leave…Dean is coming back…he won't leave."

The words were keeping him together, after his phone call with Dean he had stormed into the bedroom, intent on going out for a walk. He had gotten his jacket, picked up his walking stick and made it all the way to the door. But once he had made it halfway through it he had frozen.

An unexplainable fear had suddenly overcome him, and he had felt a panic growing inside of him that he couldn't explain. The world suddenly seemed so terrifying, and he had never felt so vulnerable. Even going to Stanford hadn't been as scary as going outside on his own now. He had felt a growing longing for his brother's presence, but Dean wasn't there. He was still out there, having a good time with some chick he had picked up while Sam was alone in this piece of crap motel room.

His fear turned to anger and he lashed out, throwing his walking stick as hard as he could. He felt some satisfaction when it crashed against something and fell to the floor with a clatter. The next little while had been a blur, he had stumbled around the small motel area, destroying everything he came in contact with, getting some small sense of satisfaction with everything that clattered or crashed on the floor.

It was only after he had heard what he thought was a dish shatter on the floor that he came to his senses. He had shuffled his way through crunchy dry cereal, and made his way back to the bedroom, stumbling over the overturned furniture in the living room.

It had been in the bedroom that it had happened; his feet got tangled up in one of the comforters he had ripped off the beds and onto the floor. Unable to catch his balance he ended up on the floor, banging his chin on the bed frame, making him bite his tongue.

He coughed and rolled onto his back, sucking oxygen in slowly through his nose, while trying not to choke on the coppery substance that was pooling at the back of his throat. He rolled his head and coughed again, expelling the blood onto the carpet.

He didn't know how long he laid like that but it must have been a few minutes at least. He finally found enough strength to push himself to his knees and he crawled until he hit the wall. There he had curled in on himself and started the comforting rocking. The same phrase over and over repeated in his mind until he started saying it aloud without even realizing it. It kept him together, kept him from totally loosing it…so here he sat waiting for Dean to return.

"Dean is coming back…he won't leave…Dean is coming back…he won't leave."

Dean would be back for him; Dean's phone call had just been a heads up not to expect him so early. But Dean would never really leave him would he? No of course not. He never had before so why should Sam think any differently now?

Sam knew why, because he had never pushed Dean so far before. He had never been so cruel…he had been hitting below the belt and he knew it, but he had done it anyway. He had practically stripped Dean down to his worst fears and weakest points and spat on them, and Dean had felt every blow that Sam had delivered.

Sam's head fell to his knees, his damaged eyes burying themselves in his kneecaps. He was scared, he was alone, and he missed Dean. How long would he be? How long would it take Dean in the backseat with some random chick anyway? Shouldn't he have been back by now?

Sam trembled. Maybe this time he had pushed too far and Dean wasn't coming back. Maybe Dean didn't want to come back this time. Sam's body was shaking uncontrollably now, his arms tightened around his legs. He wanted, no needed his brother, he couldn't do this on his own.

"Dean is coming back…he won't leave…Dean is coming back…he won't leave…Dean is coming back…"

Dean would be back for him, he was sure of it. He just had to hold on until then. When Dean came back Sam would apologize, let him know that he didn't blame him for the accident, and wouldn't try to make Dean open up again. It was up to Dean if he wanted to talk about John's death and he had made it pretty clear that he had no interest in doing so. Sam wasn't going to push his brother anymore; Dean wasn't forcing anything on Sam so why was Sam pushing Dean? Well he was done now; he was determined to let Dean handle things in his own way.

"Dean is coming back…he won't leave…Dean is coming back…"


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Jenni sighed as she pulled her latex gloves off and tossed them into the garbage before running her hands under the warm water washing off the extra white residue. After a fifteen-hour shift she had finally finished up her day at the hospital and was ready to go home. She unbuttoned her white jacket as she walked down the hall to her small office to gather her belongings and a small file of paper work that she needed to go over. Both were sitting on top of her desk, along with a cup of fresh coffee, thanks to Kyle. The handsome but over friendly doctor had had his eyes on her ever since he had arrived three months before. Jenni had told him flat out she had no interest in dating but he was still hopeful.

Jenni shouldered her purse, grabbed the file and coffee and exited, turning off the light behind her. She waved to Patty, Rose, and Yvette as she passed them on her way to the exit, and deliberately dodged around Kyle's office to avoid the tall red head with active hands.

Once outside she tossed the coffee into the nearest garbage and headed to her mustang, sliding in behind the wheel. She sat there for a minute, just relaxing, letting the pressures of the day ease off her shoulders. It was then that she remembered Dean's promise to call; she dug her phone out of her purse but wasn't surprised when there wasn't a missed call from Dean. He didn't seem like the kind of person who would want to talk about his problems, but still.

Jenni couldn't suppress the feeling that something was horribly wrong with these two…she had seen the connection between the brothers when Dean had sat next to Sam's unconscious form. Dean had a very strong protective streak when it came to his brother, and last night when Jenni had found him alone at the bar he had seemed so down.

Dean had been carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders last night, and the look in his eyes when he had first looked into Jenni's had been startling. Almost a dead look, it had been rather surprising but he hadn't wanted to talk about it, and Jenni hadn't pressed for answers.

When he had taken off so suddenly though, it had raised the feeling that something was wrong, terribly wrong. Jenni had fretted for a while before finally getting enough nerve to actually call him; he had been brief saying that Sam needed him but that he would call. Could something really be that wrong?

Jenni scrolled through her dialed calls until she found Dean's number. She let her finger hover over the call button for a moment before she finally closed her phone without making the call at all. She didn't want to push herself upon the brothers; if they needed her Dean had her number. She put her phone back into her purse and started up the ignition, letting the sweet rumbling purr of the engine and Boston's _More Than A Feeling _drown out the persistent feeling to call Dean.

***  
Dean woke as the sun was setting on the horizon, sending dark red and orange beams through the windows and bathing the room in eerie colors. Dean lifted a hand to rub at the crick that was resting in his neck and shook his head slowly, trying to clear his foggy brain. He glanced at his watch and was instantly on his feet…he had been out all day long when Sam needed him. Yeah he was being a great big brother lately.

He hurried to the room and leaned against the doorframe, Sam was still in there, exactly as he had been when Dean had left. Arms curled around his legs, head resting on top of his knees and rocking while saying the same words over and over again.

"Dean is coming back…he won't leave…Dean is coming back…"

"Damn straight I'm coming back." Dean pushed himself into the quickly darkening room as the sun disappeared over the distant horizon, taking the eerie colors of the sunset with it. Dean didn't bother to turn on the light, Sam wouldn't be able to see with them on or off so it didn't matter either way. He sat on the edge of the bed in front of his brother and once again grabbed the sides of his brother's face, lifting it away from his knees.

Sam's cheeks and forehead were red from being pressed so tightly against his knees. Dean studied his brother for a minute, his thumbs gently sliding down Sam's tight cheekbones. "Sammy?"

Sam had quieted and was no longer rocking. He held perfectly still, not even breathing, in Dean's grasp. His eyelids were closed but he appeared to be listening, or some part of him did anyway. His adam's apple quivered in his throat as he swallowed and his jaw trembled.

Dean tightened his grip on Sam's face and glared at his brother, determined to pull Sam out of wherever he had disappeared to. "Sam, come on, say something. I'm right here…can you hear me?"

"Dean is coming back…"

"That's right…that's right Sammy. I came back. I'm right here. I've gotcha…I promise I'm not going anywhere."

"He won't leave…"

"That's right, that's right Sammy. Come on man, snap out of it."

"Dean is coming back…"

"God damn it, Sam! I'm right here!" Dean's eyes darted across Sam's face for some sign of recognition, some sign that Sam had even heard him but Sam seemed oblivious to Dean's distress.

"Dean…Dean…please…"

"Come on, Sam. Snap out of it." Dean fought the crack in his voice that threatened to overwhelm him with the emotions flooding through him. "Please, Sam. Fight this. Come back…"

"Dean…please…"

"Sammy, I'm not going anywhere, I promise. Please…"

"Dean…Dean…Dean?"

Dean jerked; the way Sam said his name the last time sounded different, as in a question and not a repetitive word. "Sammy?"

"Dean…" Sam lifted a hand to his head and shook it before pressing the palms of his hands to his eyes, pressing hard against them. "You're back?"

"Been back for a while dude." Dean said releasing his hold on Sam's face and sitting back on the bed, studying his brother with a skeptical eye. "How you doing?"

Sam seemed to take stock of himself, dropping his hands to his lap and cocking his head to the side. "Hungry and tired."

"We don't have any food, Sam…you took care of that last night."

Sam's eyebrows narrowed and his eyelids opened revealing the still glassy eyes, although the hazel color was starting to clear up more and more each day. The dark pupils swam around in Sam's eyes until they were staring up at the ceiling. "Last night?"

"Sam?"

"You left…left me alone." A shiver ran up Sam's spine making his body tremble slightly, his arms clasped around his legs once more.

"Hey, hey, hey! Sam, listen to me! I'm back. I'm not going anywhere…just calm down."

"Dean…"

"I'm right here, Sammy. Just breathe."

Sam's hands reached out and fumbled on the bed until he found Dean. His fingers wrapped around Dean's wrists and squeezed so tightly that Dean's fingers started to tingle as the circulation was cut off. Sam dragged exaggerated breaths into his lungs; his head falling forward slightly so his bangs hid his now closed eyes.

Dean watched Sam breathe, his eyes narrowing as he watched Sam's chest expand and depress far too quickly. He flinched as Sam's grasp tightened on his wrists. "Sam…Sammy! Calm down."

Sam ignored him and continued to breathe quickly, soon gasping for air as the panic overtook him. His fingernails dug into Dean's skin but he refused to let go.

"Sam!" Dean lifted a hand and pushed it against Sam's chest, forcing Sam down on his back, but was unable to shake Sam's death grip on his now aching wrists. "Sammy! Breathe with me, Sam…" Dean's hand still rested on Sam's ribcage, feeling the struggling muscles underneath his brother's t-shirt. Sam's back rose slightly as his body desperately fought to get more oxygen into his lungs. Dean pushed firmly once more against Sam's ribcage, forcing him back to lie flat on the mattress. "Sammy, breathe in and out with me…come on in…" Dean took in a deep breath and was relieved when Sam did as he was told.

"That's it, Sammy, now out…" Dean exhaled louder than necessary and watched as Sam did the same. He repeated the process several times until Sam was breathing normally on his own. He could no longer feel his fingers, and his wrists were screaming a protest of their abuse by Sam's hands.

"Sammy…we need food, and you need to sleep."

"Don't…" Sam's eyes opened again, his nails digging deeper in Dean's skin. "Don't leave, Dean."

"Sammy, I'm not going anywhere without you. Get some sleep I'll be right here when you wake up."

Sam shook his head roughly against the pillow, his blank eyes rolling around in the sockets. "No, no, no!"

"God damn it, Sam. Stop!" Dean yanked his wrists free, silently cursing as Sam's nails scratched him, tearing away bits of skin. "I told you I'm not going anywhere, just get some sleep. We'll go get some food later."

"Promise?"

"I promise, Sam. I'll be right here."

Sam shuddered and curled his legs up as he rolled onto his side. Dean pulled up the comforter so it was resting just below Sam's shoulder. He had managed to break through his brother's defenses but that didn't mean that Sam was better, Sam was still broken, just not catatonic. A deep fear had been planted in Sam, something that Dean would have to work hard to pull out, to prove to his brother that he would never ditch him.

He sat on the edge of the bed as Sam drifted off to sleep, not daring to move until Sam's deep and even breathing told him that Sam was getting some much needed rest. He then stood and left the room, closing the door three fourths of the way so he could still hear Sam, just in case Sam needed him. He glanced around the destroyed living room and sighed, he had best get this cleaned up before Sam woke up. It was a hazard for a blind man to have to try and stumble through it. Letting out another tired sigh Dean got to work.

***  
Jenni took a spoonful of the meat sauce and lifted it to her mouth, letting the spices, tomato sauce, and beef roll around on her tongue, making her mouth water with the tasty juices before she tossed the spoon into the sink and turned down the heat. She then turned to the boiling noodles and tested them as well. They were ready. She lifted the pan off the burner and carried to the sink where she dumped the boiling water and limp noodles into the strainer.

Steam rose to the ceiling in heavy clouds and the scent of wet spaghetti noodles filled the kitchen. Jenni rubbed at her weary eyes as she lifted the strainer from the sink and shook the excess water off the noodles before dumping them back into the pot. She had enough food to last her two weeks at least…it would probably go bad by then.

She glanced at the clock; it was getting close to eight. She glanced at her cell that she had placed on the table, still waiting for the call that would never come. She turned the last burner off and lifted the pan full of meat sauce onto a hot pad before grabbing a plate and dishing a large helping of both onto her plate. She dumped some cheese on top before filling up a glass with water and went to the table.

She sat facing the large bay window that took up most of her back wall. The curtains were only partly open now that it was dark, but her reflection looked drawn and stressed. She glanced down at her phone again as she lifted her first forkful to her mouth and took a bite. She chewed slowly, sucking on the noodles and savoring the meat sauce. Her left hand tapped the table next to the phone while her right twirled in the large mound of spaghetti.

"Screw it."

The fork hit the plate with a clatter as Jenni dropped it and picked up her phone. She scrolled through her dialed calls once more until she found Dean's number and pressed the call button. At least this time she could give the excuse of cooking too much and offering the boys dinner, if they rejected her offer she would back off, but there was no harm in trying.

"Dean? It's Jenni. Hey, I was just wondering…you guys have any plans for dinner?"


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

Dean sighed as he flipped his phone shut and returned it to his pocket. The call from the nurse had not been a surprise, he had broken his promise to call her after all, but the offer for dinner _was_ unexpected. She had simply told him that she had made too much and would bring them some if they wanted. Dean had declined, mostly because he wasn't sure how Sam would react to having someone else in the small bungalow at the moment.

Jenni had sounded disappointed but when Dean had promised to take her up on a rain check she had seemed somewhat more appeased. Dean tossed the pillows and blanket back onto the couch, turned the coffee table upright and made his way back to the bedroom just to check on his brother.

He was somewhat surprised to see Sam sitting up in bed again, hugging his knees to his chest. He wasn't rocking or muttering this time though, he was just sitting there. Dean's eyes narrowed briefly before he walked quietly into the room.

Sam's acute hearing picked up Dean's soft footfalls and he turned his head in Dean's direction, letting his cheek rest against his knees.

"Sam…you ok?"

"Dean…when did you get back?"

"I've been back for a while, bro…you don't remember?"

"No."

Somewhat concerned at this Dean walked over to Sam's bed and sat on the edge of it, studying Sam's pale face.

"Something wrong?"

"No…why?"

"Because you're tense."

Dean allowed himself to relax a bit but kept his piercing gaze on his brother. "Sam, what happened to your phone?"

"My phone?"

"Yeah, your phone. What happened to it?"

"What happened to it?"

"Would you stop repeating everything I say? What happened to the phone, Sam?"

Sam shrugged and straightened up, letting his back rest against the headboard. "I threw it."

"Why'd you do that? Do you have any idea on how worr…what that did to me when I couldn't get through to you?"

"You were worried?" Sam sounded almost amused, but it wasn't the kind of humor that Dean was appreciating.

"I didn't know what had happened, Sam. For all I know some ass hat could have come in here and kidnapped you…now tell me why the hell did you do that?"

"You left…"

"Yeah, so that's your excuse on acting like a asshole and destroying your phone?"

"You left…because I'm useless. I can't do anything anymore."

"Sam…"

"I don't blame you for wanting to get away, Dean. I just, I didn't know if you would ever come back. It must be hard being around me all the time…cramping your style."

"Sam!" Dean grabbed Sam roughly by the shoulders causing Sam's head to snap back on his neck. "Listen to me, you're not worthless…why would you…?"

Sam jerked out of Dean's grasp, almost toppling sideways off the bed, but Dean grabbed him. Once balanced Sam again shrugged out of Dean's touch. "Look at me, Dean! I mean open your eyes and look at me…I'm not exactly in the best shape to go on a demon hunt with you…or any hunt for that matter. I can't even research anymore since I can't see a damn thing."

"Sam, this is temporary…you'll get your eyesight back."

"When? When is it going to come back, Dean? Days, weeks, years? We both know I'm a liability like this…you're better off without me."

"Sam, I'm not going anywhere without you."

"Yeah right. I don't blame you; I suppose I should have seen it coming. You'd only stick around with a cripple like me for so long before you decided to ditch…"

"God damn it, Sam. Where in the world did you get such a jackass idea? I'd never ditch you…never!"

Sam's blank eyes glared in Dean's direction. "You don't need to stay with me because you feel sorry for me, Dean. I don't need your pity."

"Why would I feel sorry for you? You're a jackass. I try to help you out and you shove it right back in my face. I just can't please you. I try to be nice, I freakin' do everything I can think of to make this as easy as possible for you, but you just can't take it. You have to fight me every step of the way."

"Well I'd like to see how you'd handle it in my position. How'd you feel if I had to help you take a shower?"

"Believe it or not, Sam, you _are_ going to need help with a lot of things. You're not completely helpless I'll give you that, but you have to learn to let me help you until you can see to do these things on your own."

"Yeah, well maybe I don't want your help."

Dean shook his head in disbelief. "You have a stick up your ass or something? Why are you being so difficult about this?"

Sam didn't answer.

"You know what…" Dean pushed off the bed and stepped away from his brother. "Fine, you want to do things on your own? You do that. When you decide you've had enough, I'll still be here."

"Yeah well don't hold your breath."

"Fine. Then I'm going to go get more food since you decided to act like a two year old and trashed the place, including our food supply."

"Whatever. It's not like you care enough to be here anyway."

"Sam, I don't know how many times I have to tell you that I…"

"Well you didn't exactly sound like you were in that big of a hurry to get back here when you called me! Why? Were you were too busy with some chick you picked up? Tell me, Dean, was she a five or an eight, I want to know where I rank on the scale of your importance."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"You called me…said you were going to be later than you expected, remember? And don't pretend that you weren't with some chick who had too much booze and a brain smaller than her waist."

"Sam," Dean felt something eating away at him; something was off about this whole thing. "I never called."

Sam visibly stiffened. "What do you mean…I talked to you…"

"Whoever you talked to, Sam, wasn't me. I tried to get through to you, tried several times but I just got your voicemail. That's why I came back so fast, I didn't know what to expect."

"But if you didn't call…who did?"

"I'd like to know that myself, Sam. But whoever did has obviously been watching us, and knew that I left you alone." Dean felt sick. How could he have been so stupid? He had left Sam alone and vulnerable, Sam could have been killed while Dean was out and Dean wouldn't have known until it was too late to do anything about it.

"Dean?"

"Sam…are you sure it sounded like me?"

Sam nodded. "Positive."

"Shit." Dean ran a hand through his short hair.

"Dean…what is it?"

"Sam, you didn't…I mean you didn't go anywhere did you?"

"No…I was going to but when I got to the door…I just…"

"You what?"

"I couldn't…"

Dean glared at his brother for a moment but let it drop. Sam was hiding something, but from the way Sam was fidgeting on the bed he had a feeling that Sam wasn't going to open up anytime soon. "I'm going to go scout around…I'll be back in five minutes. Stay here."

"Dean, wait. Please…don't go."

Dean studied his brother for a moment. Sam was tense, his muscles bunched in preparation to spring from the bed and launch himself in Dean's general direction.

"Ok, Sammy. We'll stay in tonight, and head out in the morning. We need to get some more food."

Sam nodded and leaned back, closing his eyes.

"You should try and get some more sleep, Sammy."

"Ok, Dean."

Dean watched as Sam settled back under the covers before he left once more, closing the door three fourths of the way behind him. He settled on the couch, one hand running over the stubble on his chin while his other tapped the arm of the couch agitatedly.

Sam had said that someone had called him, that Sam had talked to someone that had sounded like him. But Dean knew for a fact that he hadn't talked to Sam…so someone, or something, was watching them. Keeping an eye on their every movement, trying to find them at their most vulnerable moments, when they were apart.

Looking around at the destroyed bungalow Dean was torn on what had happened, whether Sam had torn the place apart, or if it had been something much more threatening. One thing was for sure, until they figured out what the hell was going on, Dean wasn't leaving Sam alone again. Not while he was vulnerable…he couldn't.


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

The sun rose over the horizon, the warm beams of sunlight sending night creatures scattering for cover while waking the early risers. Birds nesting in the closely bunched trees chirped their greetings to each other, bugs lingering on the river's surface were quickly snatched by the hungry fish, and a few solitary elk wandered down to the river to get a drink.

The bunkhouse and bungalow were both quiet from the outside, no one was ready to go out and face the troubles of the day just yet. Except for one person…

Sam groaned as he rolled over, opening his eyes but seeing nothing but darkness. It was a very strange sensation, and one that he was having trouble adapting to. He lifted his hands to his eyes and gingerly rubbed the still healing skin. He winced as he touched a particularly nasty spot and closed his eyes again, feeling them watering.

He waited a few minutes before testing his eyes again, opening them one at a time to see if the pain in them was bearable or not. He decided he could tolerate it until Dean was awake enough to give him some medication. In the meantime…nature was calling. He was pretty sure he could do _that_ without have to call Dean to help him.

Sam slowly pushed himself to a sitting position, shifting slightly so his legs were over the edge of the bed and his feet were now touching the floor. He leaned forward, hands resting on his forehead, trying to stop the spinning sensation he was feeling. It felt like he was trying to navigate his way around the area with his eyes closed. It was making him dizzy and nauseous all at the same time.

When he was sure that he had the dizziness under a level he could deal with he continued to push himself and stood. He put a hand on the wall for a minute, letting it support his weight while he regained his balance. Then letting only his fingers remain on the solid surface, he used the structure to guide him to the bathroom.

He was silently grateful that Dean had led him around the motel room so many times now. It made navigating so much easier when he generally knew where he was going. He tripped over something that felt squishy and warm, he frowned and dropped his head automatically, staring at the object with blank eyes.

When the creature didn't attack him he continued on his way. If it didn't bite, scratch, drool, or complain he didn't care what he had stepped on. He heard the soft sounds of Dean's breathing as he neared the door, he quieted his walk even further, not wanting to disturb his brother. He had no doubts that Dean was half slung over the couch, he couldn't see to confirm that but if he knew his brother well…and he was pretty sure he did by now…Dean would have been up most of the night until he had collapsed from exhaustion.

He stumbled over a bump in the rug but managed to stay upright, he heard a pause in Dean's deep breathing and froze…waiting for the tell tale signs that he had woken his brother. But much to his deep satisfaction Dean's deep breathing resumed a moment later. Sam let out a quiet breath he didn't realize he had been holding and continued forward into the bathroom without further incident.

***  
Dean watched from over the arm of the couch as Sam stepped into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. He then sat up slowly…suppressing a groan from the aches residing in his neck and back from the uncomfortable position he had taken on the couch the night before. He ran a hand over the back of his neck, rubbing at some of the knots in his muscles, keeping a worried gaze on the bathroom…waiting for the first signs of distress.

He heard a loud flush a moment later and pushed himself off the couch, walking over to the window and pulled aside the flowery curtains, looking out into the open field. His eye caught a field mouse as it ran over the gravel drive, picking up small seeds. He watched the tiny creature dart around, trying to avoid being seen before it disappeared into the weeds just as the bathroom door opened.

"Dean?"

Dean looked over his shoulder to study his brother his eyebrows rising toward his hairline as he watched Sam sag against the still open door to the bathroom. "You ok, Sammy?"

Sam nodded but didn't move from his position.

"You hungry?"

"A little."

"Why don't you go get dressed and we'll go get something then."

Sam still didn't move, he just stood there, one leg crossed over the other, his arms crossed over his chest.

"Sam?"

"Yeah. Ok." Sam pushed off the wall and made his way slowly to the bedroom, his fingers trailing along the wall as he walked. Dean watched him go, chewing on his bottom lip for a moment before he walked to the bedroom himself.

Sam was on the floor, a frown on his face as his fingers fumbled with Dean's duffel. Dean ground his teeth together, ready for the argument that would be unavoidable when he interfered but knowing that Sam needed his help. He quickly located the right duffel and found a pair of jeans that didn't look too dirty as well as a solid blue shirt. It was one he could actually tolerate, much better than the shirt with the dog on it. Sam really needed to get an update in his wardrobe.

"Here." Dean pushed the clothes into Sam's arms.

"Thanks."

Dean's eyes widened involuntarily but a smile pulled at his lips as Sam's hands closed over the material and he pushed himself off the floor, squeezing Sam's shoulder briefly as he did. "Shake ass, Sam."

"Hey, Dean?"

"Yeah?"

Sam pulled the garments closer to himself as he stared blankly ahead, his ruined eyes blinking slowly. "You…you really didn't call?"

Dean closed the small gap that had been made between them and placed his large hand on the back of Sam's neck, feeling the trembling muscles beneath it. He cursed silently and crouched down beside his brother, using his free hand to turn Sam's face toward him, keeping his other firmly on the back of Sam's neck. He looked his brother in the eyes, even though he knew Sam couldn't see him.

"No, Sam. I didn't call. I tried…God knows I tried…but I kept getting voicemail."

"But…I could've sworn…it sounded just like you…"

"Sam, I promise we'll figure out what the hell is going on, and who called. Ok?"

"So you didn't…I mean you weren't with?"

"You mean a chick loaded up on booze with a brain smaller than her waist? I think that's how you put it." Dean laughed as Sam cracked a smile…the first genuine smile he had seen on his brother for a long time.

"Yeah, sorry about that."

Dean laughed again and released his brother, running a hand over his own stiff neck once more. "No, Sam. I wasn't busy in the backseat with some chick."

"But?" Sam pressed trusting the feeling that Dean wasn't telling him everything.

"Well, I ran into Jenni."

"Jenni? From the hospital?"

"Yeah that's the one. I ran into her in the parking lot when I was getting ready to head back."

"What'd she want?"

"Wanted to see how things are going…with everything." Dean shrugged then shook his head when he remembered that Sam wouldn't see the gesture. "And dude, she totally digs my baby."

Sam smiled again and shook his head. "Dean…"

"No, I'm serious. She couldn't get enough of her…after all you can't beat the classics, Sam."

"So you guys didn't?"

"No, I tried to call in and couldn't get through so I left."

Sam dropped his head, squeezing his clothes close once more.

Dean lightly smacked his brother's arm and pushed to his feet. "So get dressed, dude, I'm starving."

"You're always starving."

Dean bit back the sarcastic comment and grabbed his own duffel, pulling out a pair of jeans, a gray t-shirt, and a plaid blue button up.

"So, where are we goin' for breakfast?"

"I think there might be a store in town somewhere, we'll stock up on supplies."

"There isn't anything in the kitchen?"

"Are you kidding, dude? After the mess you made I was barely able to gather enough scattered coffee grinds to make one pot, and that's gone."

"That bad, huh?"

"Hmm…" Dean refrained from answering by concentrating on buttoning up his blue plaid shirt. "You almost ready to go, Sam?"

"Yeah…I think?"

Dean glanced at his brother, his eyes widening slightly as he processed Sam's tone. He held back a chuckle as he saw the predicament that Sam was in, knowing that Sam wouldn't appreciate it. Still…it went to show Dean how much Sam really did need his help, even if he wouldn't admit it.

Sam's shirt was on backwards and slightly rumpled. Dean tugged at the cuffs to his button up and strolled to his brother. "You're right, ready to take on the world."

Sam laughed. "Yeah, that's what I thought."

"You did pretty good, Sammy. Definitely getting better." Dean quickly helped Sam to fix his shirt, Sam stood still and let Dean fuss.

"Ok, let's hit the road." Dean glanced around and quickly found the discarded walking stick. He picked it up and handed it to his brother.

"Hey, Dean."

"Yeah?"

Sam licked his lips, suddenly nervous as a pair of dark shades were pressed into his free hand. He slid them on, covering his delicate eyes from whatever harsh lights might be out there. "I uh…I just…"

"I know, Sam. Now come on we're burning daylight here." Dean led the way out of the room, Sam close behind, the long walking stick thumping the ground every few seconds.

It wasn't until Dean was outside, down the steps, and halfway to the impala that he noticed that Sam was no longer behind him. He paused, one hand fishing in his pocket for the keys, while he listened intently for the tell tale signs of Sam's walking stick. He didn't hear it.

"Sam?" Dean turned, fear flooding him, but that vanished as quickly as it had emerged. Sam was still within seeing distance, standing just inside the door, well by the door actually. Sam was leaning against it, walking stick clenched tightly in both hands, his jaw locked so tight that Dean could see the muscles jumping around. "Sam? You coming?" Dean took a couple steps back toward his brother. "Sam?"

"Can't…can't go out." Sam's swallowed convulsively, his head was turned toward the open fields and the general direction of the river.

"What are you talking about?" Dean had reached the bottom step now, he placed one foot on it and leaned against a support beam, frowning as he took in his brother's trembling form. "Sammy?"

Sam's head turned slowly towards Dean, his blank eyes hidden behind the dark shades. "Can't you feel it?"

_Shit._ Dean's head snapped around so fast it popped, his eyes scanned for any sign of unwelcome activity, supernatural or other. He saw a few bugs flying around, disappearing into the yellowing weeds, a few birds flew overhead against the blue sky, and a soft breeze pushed some of the dead branches of the trees slightly, but nothing out of the ordinary. Still, Dean knew better than to dismiss Sam's hunter instincts. He pulled his .45 from his waistband and clicked off the safety. "Wait here."

With the discretion of a well trained hunter, Dean set off looking for any signs of unusual activity. He kept his back up against the wall to the bungalow, his .45 cocked and ready. The gravel under his heavy boots barely moved an inch as he stepped on them, his breathing was soft, controlled, and even. The first corner revealed nothing unusual. More open weedy fields and a few dying trees, a few birds lazily picked at the seeds on the ground before flying away, but there was nothing strange that caught his eye. Dean couldn't even sense anything strange, so he moved on.

The second corner found him at the back of the bungalow, facing the bunkhouse. He kept his .45 hidden from view here, just in case the manager or anyone else was looking out. Once again supernatural activity was absent from the scene. Feeling a bit disgruntled now Dean peered around the third corner before stepping away from the bungalow all together. There was nothing there. Being as discreet as he could he slipped the .45 back into his waistband and covered the bulge with his leather jacket. He quickened his pace until he was at the fourth corner and back to where he had started. Sam was still leaning against the door, one hand clutching at the walking stick while the other was wrapped around his stomach.

Dean kept a cautious eye on his brother as he climbed the three stairs up to the porch once more. "Sam…there isn't anything out there…you sure you felt something?"

Sam cocked his head slightly, chewing on his lower lip for a moment before answering his brother. "Nothing?"

"No…"

"Didn't you just say that a minute ago?"

"What?"

"A minute ago, you said…that you checked and nothing was out there and then you…"

"Sam, I was checking around, I wasn't here. I didn't say anything." Alarm bells were going off, Dean approached his brother the way he would a wild animal, slowing down a bit when Sam jerked back as he approached. "Sam…are you sure it was me?"

"No…I…I don't know." Sam's eyebrows disappeared behind the dark shades, he wobbled slightly, still clenching at his stomach and side.

"Sam? You ok? Hey!" Dean grabbed Sam's shoulders as Sam's knees gave out and they both hit the floor. "Sam!" Dean grabbed at Sam's arm, trying to tug it away from his brother's stomach but paused when he felt something warm and sticky. "Oh, God." He lifted his hand to see it covered in a fine layer of dark blood.

"Sam, hey!" Dean felt sick as Sam slumped against him, his head resting on Dean's shoulder. "Come on, Sammy. It's ok…you're ok." He pushed aside Sam's limp arm and examined his brother, lifting the torn shirt and grinding his teeth together when he saw the extent of the damage.

There was a long tear in Sam's side, it wasn't too deep but Dean didn't like the looks of it. "It's ok, Sammy. It's not that bad…it isn't even that bad. Let's go get you patched up, kiddo."

"Hurts." Sam gasped, his head turned slightly so he was facing Dean's neck.

"I know, but you're going to be ok, I promise."

"Tol…told you. Can't go out."

"Ok, kiddo. Let's get you back in. Come on." Dean rose, and studied the best way to get his brother to his feet…finally deciding that a supportive hand would have to do for now. He got a good hold of his brother by griping under Sam's arms and lifted. Sam groaned as he was pulled to his feet.

Dean gripped one of Sam's blood covered hands and pulled it over his shoulders, making Sam sag against him, while his free hand wrapped around Sam's waist, gripping the wound tightly to try and stem the blood flow.

Sam flinched and tried to pull away but Dean held firm. "Dean, don't. It hurts."

"I know but I have to try and stop the bleeding, Sam."

Sam shuddered and once again tried to pull away from his brother but Dean just tightened his hold. Something was going on, he wasn't sure what it was but this was the second time that something had come after his brother, and now it was hurting him physically.

He got Sam to the couch and helped him to lie down before hurrying to the bathroom to get the first aid kit. He also grabbed a clean hand towel and wetted it under the faucet for a minute before returning to his brother's side, placing the cool wet towel against his brother's wound.

Sam flinched and almost shot up to a sitting position, but Dean placed a firm hand on his brother's chest, keeping him on his back. "I know it's cold, Sammy, but I need to clean up the blood."

Sam lifted his bloody hands up in the air, allowing Dean access to his body, little bloody rivulets ran down his wrists and arms until they dried right before his elbows. "De…Dean."

"Shh…you're ok, it's not even that bad, Sammy. It's not even that bad."

Sam didn't answer, his arms fell to his sides as he passed out.


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

With Sam unconscious, Dean was able to clean and dress the wound quickly. He then proceeded to wash the drying blood from Sam's arms and hands, turning the hand towel to a bright pink color. He dropped it on the floor and brushed a few stray locks of Sam's hair away from his face.

"What the hell is going on with you, Sammy?"

Dean sat back, puzzled and worried. Although, true to his word, the wound had not been that bad, it still made him sick knowing that something could do that to his brother when he hadn't been that far from him. He had been on the other side of the building for hell's sake and Sam had gotten his side torn open. It was a damn good thing that the wound had not been worse, otherwise Dean could have come around to the porch to find Sam in a lifeless heap and wouldn't have been able to stop it.

Sam seemed ok for now; the wound had been an exceptionally clean cut, which was odd in and of itself. But Dean was never one to look a gift horse in the ass…or mouth. He couldn't quite remember the phrase correctly. But he wasn't willing to take any more chances either. He needed to do a thorough investigation of the area, including the woods on the other side of the river, but he didn't dare take Sam with him, nor did he dare leave him behind, where he'd be alone and unprotected.

Dean's hand moved to the back of his neck, and he scratched it absent-mindedly. He was torn. He could go investigate what was doing this to his brother, and run the risk of Sam getting hurt again but he didn't particularly like that choice. However, the alternative wasn't much better.

He could stay with his brother, keeping a constant eye on him but run the risk of giving whatever was after his brother the time to plan its next attack. He'd rather hunt the bitch down and get Sam out of harm's way in the process. But with only the two of them, one of them unconscious and vulnerable right now, that one was off the possibilities list.

Sam had been right about one thing in particular, and both he and Dean knew it. Sam was a liability right now. With his vision missing and his body still trying to adapt to that fact…Sam wasn't ready to take on the hardships of a hunt…not even an investigation. What could seem like normal and easy terrain for Dean to navigate would be like climbing Mt. Everest for Sam. Dean couldn't put his brother through something like that…it wouldn't be fair.

Still, they were low on food supplies, they didn't even have any damn coffee grinds left. Dean's stomach growled its protest to the absence of food and Dean shook his head to clear it. He had to find a way to get some supplies…but how was he going to do that when Sam was in no condition to leave? What he really needed was a third person to…hold on.

Dean patted down his jacket pockets, fumbling for the small desired object and finally finding it. He scrolled through his received and missed calls until he found the number and pressed the call button. He held the phone to his ear…waiting.

***

An hour later a soft knock sounded at the front door, Dean stood up from his crouched position next to his brother, gazing worriedly at his sibling's pale face. Sam had managed to come down with a fever a half hour before, and Dean had been trying to keep it down, to beat it before it got too serious. A quick check on the side wound proved that there wasn't an infection that Dean could see, but he figured it could be from the stress from the past few days.

Dean hurried to the door and pulled it open, revealing the short petite nurse. She held a large coffee in one hand while she sipped at her own, she offered Dean a timid smile, which he returned. "Hey, Dean."

"Jenni, come in, please." Dean stepped aside, allowing the nurse access to the bungalow. Jenni casually shrugged her purse off her shoulder and dropped it onto the nearest table, setting her keys right next to it.

"So…"

Dean was busy closing the door but glanced over his shoulder, an eyebrow rising in inquiry. "So?"

Jenni smiled as she casually glanced around the bungalow, her eyes narrowing briefly as she took in Sam's unconscious form on the couch. She cocked an eyebrow at Dean as Dean popped the lid off his coffee and took a sip of the strong brew.

"You can sit…" Dean offered pointing to a chair at the table in the kitchen. Jenni cast a quick glance at Sam before she shifted her gaze to Dean and nodded once, walking to the kitchen and sitting at the table. She placed the cup of coffee on the table and tapped her fingers against the cup nervously.

"Thanks…for the coffee." Dean took another sip, keeping his gaze on his brother.

"Dean, what's this about?"

Dean's gaze tore from his brother and he stared at the nurse, a frown tugging at the corners of his mouth. Unsure of how much he really wanted to tell her.

"You could have gotten the coffee yourself…so why'd you call me down here?"

Dean lifted a hand to scratch at the back of his neck, fidgeting a little. He stared down into the black inky depths of his coffee.

"Dean? Is something wrong?" Jenni pushed.

Dean lifted his head, letting it rest against the wall behind him and sniffed loudly, shaking his head slowly. "You're going to think I'm crazy."

"Dean, I won't think you're crazy."

Dean snorted in disbelief, his hard eyes turning to glare at her before they flickered back to his brother.

"Dean, please. Maybe I can help." Jenni suggested, she twirled her almost empty coffee cup around in small circles on the table, she kept her eyes steady on Dean as his shoulders sagged and he leaned more heavily against the wall.

"I think…I think something's after my brother."

Jenni's eyebrows shot toward her hairline, that was the last thing she had been expecting. "What? What do you mean?"

"I mean, something's after my brother, trying to get to him." Dean sighed, and ran a hand through his hair before setting his barely touched coffee down onto the table beside Jenni's purse. "I don't know I can just…feel it."

"Why would you think someone was after your brother?"

"Something." Dean corrected softly as he ran a hand over his jaw, scrubbing at the stubble there. "I just know."

"Dean, that doesn't make a lot of sense. You don't have a lot to go on…I mean…"

"Look, it's already come after him twice now, I know it's out there!" Dean's head snapped up and he gestured toward his brother with a quick nod. "I'm not letting that thing get near him a third time."

"What are you talking about?"

"Something is trying to get to him, trying to hurt him…_has_ hurt him. And I need to stop it. But I can't leave Sammy alone while I go check this out, and he can't come with me." Dean glared at the nurse with a steady gaze, she seemed to shrink under it.

"So, what do you want me for? To watch him?"

"No…I can't leave him…but I can't just…" Dean broke off, chewing on his bottom lip before he turned away and strode quickly to the couch, crouching down next to it and placed a hand on his brother's brow.

"Dean…why would someone want to hurt Sam?"

Dean shook his head, keeping his hand on his brother's brow before he reached for the cool cloth he had placed on the coffee table right before Jenni had arrived. He folded it a few times and placed it on Sam's warm skin.

"Dean?"

"I don't know." Dean finally looked at her, his green eyes troubled. "I do know that I have to stop it before it gets any worse."

"What do you mean before it gets any worse? Has he already been attacked?"

"It's nothing. He's fine, I patched him up."

"Was it serious?"

"No, but next time it could be. I can't take that risk."

"Ok, so that leaves us at where we were. Why do you want me here?"

Dean pushed himself up to sit on the edge of the coffee table. "Honestly? I don't know."

"Dean you need to call the police…"

"Won't do any good, I never saw the thing that got to Sam…can't trace the call. Phone's broken."

"Didn't Sam tell you anything that could help?"

Dean shook his head. "No, he said it was me. But I know it wasn't me." He rubbed at his weary eyes for a moment before letting his hands fall back to his lap.

"Dean, you're not making a lot of sense…Sam said it was you?"

"He could have sworn that I called him the other night." Dean turned his head to look at her, fixing her with a piercing gaze. "But you and I both know that I never got through on the call."

Jenni nodded, she did remember how worried Dean had been when he had been unable to get through to his brother. He had practically tossed her out of the car before he had taken off, pushing the classic to her limits as he spun her around the corner much too sharply, before disappearing altogether.

"Well this morning we were going out and he said he felt something strange…so I went to check it out…and when I came back…"

"What?"

"He said that he had already talked to me, he said that I told him nothing was out there. And I know I didn't say anything, but then I noticed the blood. He had a cut across his side, not deep or serious, but still…"

Jenni nodded. "Smart to try and stop this before it gets worse. So what can I do to help?"

"I don't know…"

Jenni tapped at her chin with one finger thoughtfully, a moment later she was chewing on her thumbnail while Dean drummed his fingers on the coffee table.

"Dean, has Sam been coping well? With everything I mean?"

Dean stopped and glared at her. "Of course he's not. Would you be?"

"Has he been acting out of character at all?"

"What does that have to do with anything? I'm trying to figure out what the hell is happening to him, not how he is coping."

Jenni's lips pursed together and she lifted an eyebrow, but said nothing more.

Dean resumed his finger drumming. "The only thing I can think of is to check the perimeter…look to see if I can find tracks of any sort. Some kind of clue as to what I'm dealing with here." He stopped and sent an anxious glance toward his brother. "I can't leave him alone though."

"Dean, how long would it take you to scout the area?" Jenni rose to her feet and joined Dean, looking at the unconscious man on the couch for a minute.

Dean shrugged before glancing at her, his gaze quickly returning to his brother. "Don't know…ten or fifteen minutes maybe."

"Well, Sam's out of it right now. I can stay with him while you check it out…"

Dean shook his head. "No, if he wakes up and finds out I'm gone again he'll freak."

"Dean!" Jenni grabbed Dean's arm with one hand while her other tilted Dean's face up to look at her. "Listen to me, whatever is doing this to Sam isn't going to stop just because you're close by. We need to figure out what is going on so we can stop it before this gets worse. Sam's already been attacked once, what makes you think that the psycho that did this is going to stop here?"

Dean sighed, his shoulders slumping in defeat.

"Now listen, Sam isn't going to wake up in the next few minutes…and I'll be here watching him while you're out. Go see if you can find anything…I'll call you if something changes, or if I find something here that could explain something."

Dean tore his gaze away from Jenni, pulled his arm out of her clasp, he inched forward so his knees were touching the couch. He sat there for a minute or so before removed the cool cloth to feel Sam's forehead, frowning when he noticed that the fever hadn't gone down at all. He gently brushed aside the long dark locks that had fallen over Sam's eyes before he looked up to Jenni again, his jaw locked and eyes hard. "I'll be fast."

Jenni nodded and shot a quick look to Sam before meeting Dean's hard gaze. "I'll stay with Sam, Dean. I promise I won't let anything happen to him."

Dean nodded again then stood, walking briskly to the bedroom, only to emerge a moment later a shotgun in his hand. Jenni shrank back away from the tall man holding the shotgun, her back found the wall and her eyes widened so much that they bulged.

"Do you know how to work a shotgun?"

Jenni shook her head. "No."

Dean cast a weary glance at his brother before he set the shotgun down next to the couch and pulled a knife from his waistband, he flipped it so the hilt was turned toward Jenni. "Take this…just in case."

"Dean…"

"Please, just keep him safe." Dean then pulled out his .45 and clicked off the safety before moving to the front door. He was in and out quickly the door shutting softly behind him, so as not to disturb his brother's slumber. Jenni eyed the knife that Dean had handed to her for a moment before she placed it on the kitchen table next to her coffee. She glanced out the window to see Dean jogging through the tall weeds in the empty field.

"Hurry back, Dean."

***

It didn't take Dean long to reach the river's edge once he got moving, his sharp eyes hadn't picked up anything unusual. Dean didn't know if he was relieved or frustrated by that. He hadn't found anything that would explain what was happening to Sam, no demonic signs, no disturbed ground indicating a spirit, and here at the river there were no signs of life except for some faint elk prints and the dark fish as they swam close to the river bottom.

"Sam, what the hell is going on here?" Dean ran a hand over his chin as he studied the choppy water. He let his eyes wander over the river to the other side, where the tall dead looking trees stretched on for as far as he could see. But that was all he could see. It was eerie, and he was sure it wasn't normal.

Dean was considering checking out the other side, just in case, when his pocket started to vibrate. He frowned, and pulled the phone from his pocket, glancing at the caller ID before he quickly flipped it open and held it to his ear. "Jenni? What is it?"

_"Dean, you need to get back here. It's Sam!" _

"I'm on my way." Dean snapped the phone shut. He turned back to the bungalow and took off at a run.


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

Jenni closed her phone and set it on the coffee table next to her, before turning her gaze back to the unconscious man lying on the couch. She had had to sedate him, Dean wouldn't be happy but she would explain herself later. She was just grateful that she had made it a habit to keep an emergency stash of medical supplies in her car…if she didn't she wasn't sure how she would have gotten Sam under control without Dean around.

Dean hadn't been gone for more than a minute or so when Sam had woken up, he had seemed calm enough at first, but once he realized that Dean wasn't in the immediate area he had flipped. Jenni had tried to calm him down, but he wouldn't listen. He had tried to destroy anything within close proximity and a swinging fist had almost caught Jenni in the mouth. She had ducked just in time, but unfortunately wasn't quick enough to avoid Sam's flying leg, his foot had caught her in the abdomen, sending her sprawling to the floor in a heap, breathless and aching.

Sam had pushed off the couch, and fumbled around until he found his way into the kitchen where she heard the clatter of silverware and then she was aware of shattering glass. She had pushed herself to her feet, still holding her aching stomach with one hand, and hurried out to her car where she got her medical kit.

Sam was leaning over the sink when she returned, holding perfectly still, his head turned up toward the ceiling, his blank eyes were closed. Jenni walked slowly, unsure of how Sam would react to her presence. He didn't seem too concerned, he didn't react to her at all. It was then that Jenni saw it, a large sharp knife held in Sam's hand ready to slice his arm. She had quickly administered the sedative and managed to wrestle the knife away from Sam without him inflicting any damage to himself, although her palm had gotten sliced in the process.

Sam had relaxed almost instantaneously as the drug did its work. Jenni coaxed him back to the couch where he fell asleep a minute later. She had then proceeded to the bathroom to wrap her bleeding hand and then called Dean. She was convinced that she knew what was going on, the problem would be making Dean see the same thing.

A moment later the door banged open, making her jump and she turned to see Dean hurrying into the bungalow, his cheeks and chin bright pink from the cold wind outside. He didn't even look at her, his eyes were only for his brother. He hurried to Sam's side and crouched down next to the couch, a hand lifted to rest on Sam's forehead.

"What happened?"

"Sam woke up."

Dean shot a glare over his shoulder before looking back at his brother. "So why is he out of it?"

"I…well I sedated him."

"What?" Dean spun so he was looking at her, his green eyes cold and hard.

"Dean, I think I know what is going on with Sam."

"What are you talking about?"

"I think…that maybe…that Sam is doing this to himself."

"What the hell are you talking about? Sam couldn't be doing this himself."

"Dean, please just hear me out." Jenni's gaze darted back and forth across Dean's eyes.

"Why? It doesn't make sense now. How could Sam be making this up? He said he talked to me..."

"Because he really thought he _was_ talking to you, Dean. Listen. When you were trying to call him the other night, when you were with me…what were you going to tell him?"

"What does that have…"

"Just answer the question…what were you going to tell him?"

Dean shrugged. "I was just calling in to see how he was…and to tell him I might be a bit later then I thought."

"And did you find out why you couldn't get through to Sam when you got back?"

"Yeah, he had smashed his phone."

"Did he tell you why?"

"He said he was pissed…that I didn't care about being back here because I was in the backseat with…oh God." Dean's eyes widened as he took in what Jenni was saying and his gaze traveled back to his brother.

"Dean, has he been acting out of sorts at all?"

"He was catatonic when I got back to the bungalow, after I couldn't get through on the phone." Dean's eyes lifted to meet Jenni's for a moment. "He was like that for a while."

"When he came out of it, was he ok?"

"He seemed surprised to see me, he thought it was right after he had gotten the call from me."

"And you said he was attacked outside?"

"Yeah, yeah he was."

"What were you doing?"

"I was looking around the bungalow, he said he felt something."

"Did you find anything?"

"No, nothing."

"Did you tell him that?"

"Yeah, but he thought he had already talked to me."

"What did he say."

"He told me that I had already told him that…and that was when I saw the blood."

"And there were no traces of anyone around?"

"No, not that I could see."

"Did he have a weapon on him?"

Dean's eyes narrowed. "Why?"

"Dean, did he have a knife?"

"You don't think Sam did this to himself?"

"Dean, I think it is a good possibility that he is."

Dean jumped up, his hands curling up into fists as he glared down at the small nurse. "Sam wouldn't do that!"

"Dean, on some subconscious level Sam knows that he can keep you close by if he's hurt. And because of the eye injury he isn't handling new situations well. So he's trying to keep the one constant in his life as close as possible."

"What are you saying? That he isn't right in the head? That he's having conversations with himself?"

"No, what I'm saying is Sam has had some very serious hits, and because of that he's gripping onto the one thing that hasn't changed…you. He's so attuned to everything you do that he's actually predicting what you'll do before hand and thinks he's really talking to you when the conversation hasn't taken place yet."

"How is that even possible?"

"Dean, listen to me. When you were trying to get through to him on the phone you couldn't because his phone had been smashed, because he believed he had already talked you…right?"

Dean nodded.

"And when you came back to tell him you didn't see anything around the bungalow, Sam believed that you had already told him that?"

Dean nodded again. "But that doesn't explain the wound to his side."

Jenni chewed her lip for a minute before she pushed herself to her feet and walked to the still open front door, she crouched down, examining the dark bloodstains on the ground. Her fingers traced a path along it until they came to a stop at a small bookshelf pushed up against the wall. "Dean…look at this."

Dean joined her, his eyes following the blood droplets to where they stopped right at the edge of the small bookshelf, he lifted an eyebrow at Jenni then pushed her aside. He was easily able to drag the bookshelf away from the bungalow wall.

Jenni crouched down and retrieved a small object from the ground, examined it thoroughly before she handed it to Dean and waited for his opinion.

Dean recognized the small knife immediately. It was one he had given Sam years ago, and it was coated in a fine rust color that flaked away when he touched it. He didn't need to be an expert to know that it was dried blood. "Why? Why would he do this?"

"Dean, he isn't doing it on purpose. Sam doesn't even remember doing this. By the time you made it back to him, the knife had been hidden and Sam was concentrating solely on trying to slow the bleeding. Part of his mind is so traumatized by what has happened to him that its playing games with him, and you've been caught in the crossfire."

"You don't sound that surprised."

Jenni shrugged. "It isn't unheard of, Dean."

Dean nodded once, he twirled the small knife around, his eyes glued to the blood-coated blade. "So, what can I do?"

Jenni sighed and directed Dean back to the kitchen where she firmly pushed him into her vacant chair. She looked at his semi-warm coffee, before heading to the open cabinets where she had spotted a bottle of jack earlier. She got two glasses and joined Dean at the table.

"You just need to be patient, Dean. He'll come around. Right now everything is still so new and scary to him, but as he adjusts more, and starts to heal…well, he'll deal better. Right now the best thing you can do is just be there when he needs you. Keep an eye on him, don't let him out of your sight." Jenni pushed a shot into Dean's hands and gestured for him to drink it. Dean swallowed it quickly and gestured for more, Jenni complied with his request.

Dean smirked as he twirled the shot glass around in small circles. "He won't like that. He's already fighting for his independence."

Jenni smiled. "Well in that case, help him when he needs it, and keep him away from sharp objects…or…" She gestured to the shotgun still leaning up against the wall. "Any kind of weapon for that matter, I don't want to be called out here for an emergency bullet removal."

Dean grinned. "Right."

"Well, I should get going. He'll be out for a couple hours at least. When he wakes up make sure he gets some fluids in him. He'll get dehydrated otherwise." She rose from her seat and grabbed her purse She turned at the door, as she pulled her keys from the front pocket. "Call me, if you need anything."

"Thanks, Jenni." Dean stood at the door, keeping one cautious eye on his brother while Jenni shouldered her purse and walked down the three porch steps to her red mustang. She climbed in behind the wheel, started up the engine, gave Dean a quick wave, then pulled away.

Dean stepped back into the bungalow, closing the door behind him. He shot his brother another glance before going to the kitchen and picked up the bottle of jack where Jenni had left it. He didn't bother with a shot glass, he wouldn't need it.


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

Dean had abandoned the jack fairly quickly when he realized that it wasn't drowning out the feelings of failure that had risen in him. The level in the bottle had gone down a bit, but the majority of it was still there.

Sam was still out of it, but Jenni had warned Dean that Sam wouldn't be awake for a while. Dean wasn't sure if he was happy about that or not. On the plus side it gave Dean time to come to terms with what had been revealed about his brother.

He found it hard to believe that Sam was actually doing this to himself, it just didn't sound like Sam. Sam was strong, in so many areas that Dean wasn't. Sam had been keeping Dean together lately; it was only because of Sam that Dean hadn't swallowed a bullet after John's passing. He had to be there to look after his brother, but that didn't mean that he was handling things very well, and after Sam's new disability he was finding it even harder to cope.

He was falling apart and Sam wasn't helping to hold him together anymore. Sam was struggling to get a grip on what had happened to him, and he wasn't handling it very well. Dean wasn't either to be honest, but Sam was definitely struggling the most with it. That was to be expected though, since Sam was actually the one experiencing it.

Still it was hard to watch Sam struggle the way he was. He ached with every fiber of his being as Sam struggled with just the simple daily tasks that they both used to take for granted. Sam's example of putting his clothes on earlier was a fine example of that…Sam couldn't see what he was doing so he didn't know if he was doing it right. It hurt Dean to see Sam have to go through this. Guilt raged through him, he should have trusted Sam's instincts and inspected more fully that night, rather than just brushing it off and leaving Sam on his own…exposed to the harpy's claws.

Dean shook his head; this wasn't going to help Sam. Sam wasn't coping with what happened to him. Well that was what he was gathering from what Jenni had told him anyway. Sam was putting on a strong front for Dean, but some subconscious part of his mind was trying desperately to get the message through to Dean that Sam wanted his help.

Dean hadn't been listening for that though, he had only been hearing what Sam's mouth had been saying and so in desperation Sam's mind had reacted in a way that Dean was programmed to act. By keeping Sam injured or making Dean think that Sam was in danger Dean was always by his side. It made sense, there was no better way to keep Dean close, he just wished that it hadn't come to this; Sam didn't need this right now.

Well, if Dean was going to be honest with himself, he didn't need this right now either. He couldn't keep a constant eye on Sam for every waking minute of the day. Sam was fighting for independence and would fight him tooth and nail if he tried to help him too much. But if he left Sam alone that piece of mind begging Dean for his help would strike out in the only way it knew to make him respond. He couldn't risk that, so far the wounds that Sam had been inflicting upon himself had been superficial but that didn't mean they would stay that way. The next wound could be more dangerous, Sam could go for something more vital next time, or go deeper than he had, and Dean wasn't willing to take that chance with his brother's life. So for now he would stick close, whether Sam seemed to appreciate it or not.

Dean checked his watch again, checking to see how long Sam had been out. Jenni had said it would be a couple hours before Sam woke up, it was closing in on an hour and a half now. He cast a longing glance toward the bathroom, thinking of the hot shower that was awaiting him before his gaze trailed back to his brother, lingering on the scabbing wounds that covered most of Sam's face.

He shook his head and pushed himself to his feet, he knew the moment he went in to take a shower Sam would wake up and freak out because Dean wasn't in the immediate proximity. He would just have to wait until Sam was awake and aware enough of his surroundings for the shower. He'd have to help Sam get ready as well because their rations were dangerously low and if they expected to eat they would have to go get some supplies.

Dean grabbed the bottle of jack from the coffee table and headed back to the kitchen to put it somewhere safely out of Sam's destructive grasp. He took another healthy swig before capping the bottle and placing it on the highest shelf of one of the empty cupboards. He lifted his hands and rubbed his temples, his head was aching from lack of sleep, and what sleep he had gotten had been restless. His eyes burned and drooped from weariness but he was refusing to give in just yet, Sam needed him to be there when he woke up.

Dean eyed the cup of coffee on the table for a moment before he grabbed it and took a sip, he gagged at the lukewarm liquid, barely able to swallow the mouthful, he tossed the rest of the remainders into the trashcan and returned to the living room. He felt fear rushing through him when he saw the empty couch and abandoned blankets…Sam was nowhere in sight. "Sam!"

***  
Sam didn't like the feeling of floating, it was unstable and scary, something else he couldn't handle…he already had too much piled on his plate. So he fought against it finally finding the surface. He found himself lying flat on his back on what he was pretty sure was the couch. He sat up, running a hand over his face, trying to clear the remains of the drug he was given. What the hell was it anyway? He didn't remember taking anything.

He heard Dean shuffling around in the kitchen; he debated about joining him for a moment before a more pressing issue made its intentions known. He shoved himself off the couch and to his feet, his head spun and he grabbed onto the edge of the couch for a moment to steady himself. When he was sure that he could continue onto the bathroom without falling on his face he let go of the couch and let his fingers find the wall. He guided himself along, pausing when he found the first opening to an opposite room.

He could tell almost at once that it wasn't the bathroom, it smelled differently and the inside wall wasn't tiled like the bathroom was. So he pressed forward, finding the bathroom a minute later and slipped inside.

He managed to take care of business fairly well and was just washing up when he heard his brother's panicked cry from the other room. He shut off the water and brushed his hands against his pants as he opened up the door.

"Sam!"

"Dean?"

"Sammy? Thank God."

Sam cocked his head to the side as his brows furrowed together. He could hear the sheer relief in Dean's voice and it puzzled him. Surely Dean would have known that he hadn't gone that far. "Dean? You ok?"

Dean sighed and leaned against the wall, eyeing his brother critically, searching for any new wounds that may be there. "I'm fine, Sam."

"Ok…" Sam shrugged and started to make his way across the room once more.

Dean watched him with narrowed eyes, frowning as Sam stumbled over his own feet.

"Where's your walking stick?"

"Don't know, can't see it." Sam shot a grin in what he hoped was Dean's direction. Dean wasn't amused.

"That's not funny, Sam."

Sam's smile faltered and he stopped walking. His whole face wrinkled in confusion. "You pissed at me?"

Dean took a deep breath and shook his head. He shouldn't snap at Sam, Sam wouldn't have a clue as to why Dean was so wound up. Like Jenni said Sam didn't remember anything about the attacks. He would just come to with some mysterious new wounds, and Dean was sure that was just as terrifying to Sam as the whole situation was to Dean. "No, no I'm not. Sorry Sam. I'm just tired I guess."

"When's the last time you got some sleep?"

"I got some last night."

"Good sleep?"

"It was sleep, that's good enough."

"Dean…"

"We need to go get more supplies, we're running low on everything. I'm going to go grab a shower and we'll go."

"Ok, sure." Sam shrugged and continued his forward trek hoping to find the couch; his head was starting to spin again. He faltered and swayed on the spot for a minute before a strong hand gripped his arm and steadied him.

"Take it easy, Sammy. I gotcha." Dean helped Sam to the couch and gently pushed him down onto the cushions. Sam leaned back, closing his eyes, and breathing deeply through his nose willing the nausea and spinning to stop.

"Sam, you ok?"

Sam felt Dean's hand on his knee and swallowed hard forcing back the bile that had been rising before he risked opening his eyes. Not that it made much of a difference to him but it showed Dean that he was listening. "Yeah, I'm good."

"Ok." Dean didn't sound convinced but didn't push it, something Sam was grateful for. He heard Dean shuffle off in the direction of the bedroom, his eyes closed once more and he concentrated on his breathing.

"Sammy?" Dean paused on his way to the bathroom, his eyebrows rising to his hairline as he took in his brother's pale form on the couch. Sam's jaw was ground together, his eyes squeezed shut, and his hands were wound around his stomach.

Sam shook his head slowly and even from across the room Dean could see the slow concentrated swallow in Sam's throat.

"You're sure?"

Sam opened his blank eyes but didn't turn his head away from the ceiling. " 'M fine."

"Yeah, ok." Dean walked into the bathroom and shut the door behind him. He paused, dropped his clothes on the floor and pulled the door open a crack, just in case. He shed his clothes quickly and stepped under the hot water.

***  
The nausea was overwhelming; he wasn't sure how long he would be able to keep hold of the last meal he had eaten. He wasn't quite sure when that was or what it was but he sure as hell wasn't curious enough to find out the hard way.

He heard Dean close what he assumed was the bathroom door before the water in the shower started, and then to his surprise the door opened again. He opened his eyes and turned his head in that direction, waiting for the tell tale sounds of Dean leaving the bathroom, but he was met with nothing that would indicate that Dean was out of the bathroom at all.

Sam's stomach clenched and he clutched at it but moments later knew that the effort was in vain. He once again got to his feet and started to make his way to the bathroom, he just prayed that Dean had left the bathroom door open, if not Dean would not be happy when he saw the mess that Sam was about to make.

Sam stumbled blindly around the room, not even bothering with trying to feel his way across the room by using the wall. He held his hands out before him, hoping to find the bathroom before his stomach decided that it would no longer be held back. He followed the sounds of the running water from the shower and soon found a wall, but to his disappointment there wasn't an opening anywhere close to it.

His stomach lurched and he fell to his knees gagging, one hand holding him up while the other grabbed at his stomach, pushing against it. He felt his eyes watering up and blinked furiously, his stomach lurched again and he felt his arm buckling under his weight. A moment later he found his face on the floor, breathing in the scent of the musty carpet. It did nothing to help his nausea and he gagged again.

"Sammy?"

Sam groaned into the carpet, unable to do much else. Strong hands grabbed his arms and turned him onto his back, a cool hand rested against his forehead.

"Sam?" Dean frowned as Sam suppressed another gag, making his younger brother cough violently.

"Sick." Sam moaned, his hands lifted to claw at Dean's bare arms.

Dean nodded and got to his feet, pulling Sam with him and pulled one of Sam's arms across his shoulders. "I figured when I heard you trying not to be sick out here." He helped Sam into the bathroom and to the toilet where he lifted the lid. "Don't fight it if you need to be sick, Sam. It will just make it worse."

Sam gagged again before he dry heaved into the toilet, he squeezed his eyes tightly and clenched at his stomach while Dean kept a steady hand on his back to help support him. He dry heaved again, and a lone tear managed to squeeze out from underneath his closed lid and make its way down his cheek. He let out a dry sob as his throat burned with bile but he was unable to expel it. It made for a very uncomfortable sensation.

His breath hitched in his chest, he dry heaved once more into the toilet before he leaned back against the strong support of his brother. He was surprised when he felt his clothes instantly dampen with warm water. He took in a shaking breath and opened his eyes. "Dean?"

"Yeah, Sammy, I'm right here."

"You're not naked are you?"

Dean laughed and rubbed a hand against the back of Sam's shoulder. "No smart ass. I'm wearing pants, I heard you out there and decided to make sure you were ok."

Sam smiled and closed his eyes once more as one of Dean's hands once again made its way to Sam's forehead checking for fever. "How's the stomach?"

"Better."

"Sam?"

"No, really. It's better." Sam let out a soft breath and rubbed one hand over his stomach.

"Maybe we should hold off on our supply run for a while."

"I'm fine, Dean. You can go…I'll just…"

"No, I'm not leaving you here alone, Sam." Dean pulled away from Sam and stood up, grabbing one of Sam's arms to help him to his feet as well.

"I don't need a baby sitter, Dean."

"I'm not saying you do but something could still be out there, Sam. And until we know what I don't want you out here by yourself."

Sam's eyes narrowed briefly but he didn't offer an argument. He nodded briefly and pulled free from Dean's grasp. "Ok, so let's go."

"Sam, I don't think…"

"Dean, I'm fine. I told you that."

"You sure you want to do this?"

Sam's blank eyes rolled toward Dean, and although it wasn't possible Dean could have sworn that Sam was looking right at him as his lips pulled down into a frown. "No, Dean, I'm not sure I want to do this. But I don't have much of a choice do I? You won't leave me here and we need food."

"Sam…"

"I really don't want to be a spectacle for complete strangers, but it looks like I don't have a say in that."

"Sam, stop." Dean rested a hand on Sam's shoulder, unsurprised when he felt the muscles trembling under his palm. He knew Sam was barely holding it together right now and it was up to him to make sure that Sam didn't completely fall apart. "We don't need to go out, we can stay here tonight."

"Dean, we don't have any food how do you expect us to stay in without any food?"

"God damn it, Sam! Just calm down. I'll take care of it."

"How? You can't fix everything, Dean. You can't make everything ok just by saying it will be."

"Sammy, come on don't do this."

Tears began to leak from Sam's eyes and Dean's own eyes widened in surprise. "You can't fix this one, Dean."

"Sammy, you're crying."

Startled by the sudden revelation Sam gripped Dean's arm with one hand his blank eyes rolling up toward the ceiling. "But…my tear ducts were damaged."

"Looks like they've healed up a bit." Dean gently fingered the wound around Sam's eyes.

"Dean, I'm sorry…I just."

"Sam, don't. I know this is still scary for you. Believe me I know. We don't have to go out tonight."

"No, I'm fine really."

"Sam…I think you've been through enough today. Our trip to get supplies can wait until tomorrow."

"But what are we going to do about…?"

"I've got it covered. Right now you need to rest. Come on." Dean wrapped his arm around Sam's waist, relieved when Sam didn't fight him off. He helped Sam to the bedroom and laid him down on the furthest bed from the door.

"Dean, I just…well, thanks." Sam closed his eyes as Dean covered him with the comforter.

"Don't mention it, Sammy." Dean made sure Sam was comfortable and left the room, leaving the door open behind him. He spotted his cell on the coffee table where he had left it and picked it up. He scrolled through his numbers before he found the one he was looking for and pressed send.


	21. Chapter 21

A/N: Thanks again guys for all the support for this story – I'm glad everyone is enjoying it. I really appreciate those of you who have taken the time to review. I'll try to post some more in the next few days or so – depending on how busy they are.

Chapter 21

Jenni sighed as she scanned the contents of her refrigerator, pulling open the lids to many of the containers that resided there. She wrinkled her nose up at another item that should have been tossed out a long time ago and tossed it into the garbage can next to the wall. She wound a stray lock of blonde hair around her ear and let out a heavy breath before she grabbed a package of hamburger that needed to be divided and wrapped so it could be placed in the freezer, she would have some of it tonight as well. She wasn't in the mood for leftover spaghetti.

She opened up her pantry door and extracted a can of mushroom soup and her jar of instant rice as well before she headed over to the stove. She found a couple of pans well equipped for the task ahead and turned on the burners, dumping a quarter of the hamburger package into one pan and filling the other half full with hot water. She washed her hands and got to work, separating the hamburger into small pieces so it could cook properly. It soon began to sizzle and pop…bits of hamburger flying out of the pan to land on the stove's surface. Without missing a beat Jenni turned the heat down and checked the water in the other pan.

It was boiling and ready for the rice she dumped in a half cup and returned to the meat, pushing it around the large pan, turning the pieces frequently to prevent them from burning. The meat continued to sizzle and pop, but it stayed in the pan.

She checked the boiling rice again, stirring it to prevent it from sticking to the bottom of the pan and reached for her can opener. She was an expert at working the hand held device, something that most people seemed to struggle with when they tried to help her out in the kitchen. Jenni supposed it was because they were used to the automatic can openers and her hand held one was in desperate need of a replacement, but it had been a gift from her grandmother and she didn't have the heart to throw it out.

The silver top of the can was soon cut free, Jenni had to work carefully so as not to slice her fingers open on the jagged edges. She tossed the lid into her trashcan and returned to the meat, satisfied when she saw it a nice rich brown color. She set the heat on low and poured the mushroom soup on top of the cooked meat. She mixed the two ingredients together well before she removed it from the stove entirely to prevent it from burning. She turned her attention back to the rice and was about to test one of the grains when her purse started to vibrate.

Jenni put down the spoon, wiped her hands on her pants and hurried to the table where she had dropped her purse. A quick search through its contents and she found the desired object that was being so annoying. She glanced at the caller ID before she flipped the phone open and held it to her ear. "Dean? Something wrong?"

She chewed on her lip as Dean explained the situation. She ran a hand through her blonde hair and returned to the stove, checking the rice. She flicked the burner off and removed the pan from the heat. "You guys hungry now? I just made dinner."

She pulled some large bowls from a cabinet and poured the meat mixture and rice into them. She covered them as best she could and glanced at the clock over her stove. "No problem, Dean. I'll be there in a few." She clicked the phone shut and shoved it into her pocket. She quickly grabbed the two bowls off the counter, retrieved her keys, shouldered her purse and left without bothering to turn off the lights.

***  
It didn't take long for Jenni to get to the old bungalow, laden with her burdens. The two bowls full of the dinner that she had prepared earlier as well as three grocery bags full of food that she had picked up along the way. She used her shoulder to push open the car door, almost falling as she stumbled on the uneven gravel driveway.

Dean had the door open for her before she had even climbed the three stairs to the porch, undoubtedly hearing her mustang's engine as she had pulled up. He offered her a tired smile as she approached and held out a hand to help lighten her burden. She gratefully gave him the two hot bowls full of the hamburger stroganoff and the rice. He led the way into the kitchen, Jenni kicking the door shut behind her, and together they placed their items onto the table.

"Jenni, thanks for coming. I just couldn't leave him."

"It's not a problem, Dean." Jenni assured as she pulled out a few cans of soup and a few six packs of soda. "How's his stomach? Still nauseous?"

"He hasn't said anything."

Jenni chewed on her lip for a moment before pointing to one of the soup cans Dean was now examining. "I think we should go easy on his stomach tonight anyway, just to be safe. The stroganoff might be a bit harsh for his system. Any sign of fever? Have you gotten any fluids into him?" Jenni took the can away from Dean and headed to the small stove, looking for a pan that she could cook in.

Dean helped out by locating the pan for her and handing it over. "A small one and no. He won't take anything."

"There is some sprite and ginger ale over there…whatever you think he'll take but he needs to get something."

Dean retrieved a cup from the cupboard and the ice tray from the freezer. He returned to the table and grabbed one of the six packs, not really caring which one he selected. It would be a war zone to try and get either into Sam anyway. He poured the bubbly substance into the cup and dropped a couple of ice cubes into it.

"Dean?"

"Hmm?"

Jenni turned from the hot stove and the barely simmering soup she had on it. "Did you say his tear ducts were healing?"

Dean nodded once as he replaced the ice tray and picked up the glass from the table.

"There were no traces of blood in the tears were there?"

Dean's eyebrows rose but he shook his head. "No, they seemed normal."

Jenni turned back to the stove to stir at the soup. "You'll need to keep an eye on him for the next couple days, make sure there isn't any swelling, or grainy build up in the corners of his eyes. Make sure that he is well medicated…especially now. It's a good thing that he's healing so quickly, but we don't want to press our good luck."

"You think something could go wrong?"

"The chance of infection is still there and if he is managing to cry he is going to be washing out the medication he is on." Jenni tapped the wooden spoon against the edge of the pot and placed it onto the countertop. She turned back to see the worried expression on Dean's face.

"Dean, as long as we keep an eye on it and he still gets his usual medication there shouldn't be any complications."

Dean seemed to accept this because he picked up the glass full of the bubbling liquid and left the kitchen. Jenni jumped when the stove behind her sizzled as the soup boiled over the top. "Shit."

***  
Sam was lying down with his back to the door when Dean entered. Dean paused, unsure of whether Sam was asleep or not. But that was answered a moment later when Sam turned, having detected Dean's soft footfalls.

"Dean?"

"Hey, Sam." Dean entered the room, flipping on the light switch automatically. He blinked against the bright light and headed toward his brother's bed, sitting on the edge of it as Sam moved sluggishly toward a sitting position. "How's the stomach?"

Sam frowned as he assessed himself, rubbing one hand gingerly across his stomach while leaning against the headboard. "Kinda queasy, not too bad."

"Well here…you need to drink this." Dean pressed the cup into Sam's free hand.

Sam shook his head. "Don't want it."

"Tough, you need it. So drink."

Sam closed his eyes and shook his head again, wishing instantly that he hadn't. It made him feel light headed. He lifted a hand to cover his eyes when found it stopped by Dean's rough hand. He raised an eyebrow as his blank eyes stared right past his brother. "Dean?"

"Don't touch your eyes, Sam."

Sam pursed his lips in annoyance but couldn't question further because he soon found a cold glass in the hand that Dean had snatched before he could touch his face.

"Drink this."

"Dean…"

"Sam, just do it."

Sam did as he was told. He choked, coughing and spitting as the bubbly liquid made its way down his esophagus. "Dean…what is this?"

"It's sprite, Sam. It will help settle your stomach."

Sam made a face and tried to hand the cup back to his brother but Dean was having none of it.

"If you don't drink it Sam, so help me God, I'll freakin' pour it down your throat."

Sam debated for a minute, wondering if Dean was actually serious. After a moment though he seemed to come to the conclusion that the threat was a real one and took another hesitant sip. He shivered as the cool liquid hit his stomach like a punch; his stomach rumbled its disapproval. He shifted slightly on the bed.

"Do I have to drink all of it?"

"Half."

"Come on, Dean." Sam couldn't stop the whine in his voice.

"Half."

Sam slumped against the pillows, sulking like a two year old. Dean watched torn between amused and annoyed. Sam's finger traced its way along the top of the cup but he didn't make another attempt to drink it. Dean let this carry on for a minute or two before he grabbed the cup from Sam's hand.

"What are you doing?"

"Pouring it down your throat…gave you the choice."

"Wait…I'll drink it." Sam relented holding up a hand while his blank eyes rolled in their sockets. Dean suppressed a smile and handed the cup back to Sam, who downed half of it in a few quick swallows.

"Better?" Dean accepted the quarter full glass and set it on the bedside table.

Sam swallowed hard and rubbed his stomach once again. "I'll let you know in a minute."

Dean seemed to accept that and glanced up as Jenni entered the room carrying a small tray with a steaming bowl on it. She paused as both heads were turned in her direction, Dean's green eyes showing some sort of relief for the backup while Sam's blank hazel eyes widened briefly and then narrowed in suspicion.

"Dean?"

Dean nodded toward Jenni, giving her the ok to proceed further into the room. She walked hesitantly as Sam's head turned back toward Dean, his eyebrows raised in inquiry.

"Jenni came to help us out, wanted to check up on you."

"Jenni? From the hospital?"

"Yeah, Jenni from the hospital."

Jenni set the tray down onto the bedside table and examined Sam from where she stood at the moment. "Heard that you're doing a little better, Sam."

Sam shrugged. "Doesn't seem like it."

Jenni ignored the harsh tone in his voice, knowing that this was difficult for Sam. "Mind if I have a look?"

Sam shook his head but frowned as he felt his brother's weight lift the bed to be replaced by Jenni's. She was a lot lighter than Dean, the bed shifted slightly under her weight but it didn't sag as much as it did when Dean had sat down. Sam clenched his hands into fists as he felt her cold hands gently touch the wounds on his forehead. He instinctually closed his eyes and shuddered.

"Just relax, Sam." Jenni said softly. "Dean, can you get me some more light?"

Sam heard a click to his right and was sure Dean had turned on one of the bedside lamps.

"That's good just turn the shade…yeah, perfect." Jenni returned her attention once again to Sam. She seemed satisfied with the way the scratches were healing. "Sam, I'm going to open your eyes so I can look at them ok?"

Sam took in a steadying breath and nodded once. He tried not to flinch away as Jenni's fingers gently pried open his lids, and gently probed the flesh underneath them.

"There doesn't seem to be any swelling…or bleeding into the eyes."

Sam heard Dean shifting next to the bed, and a moment later felt a light hand on his shoulder, he leaned into it, grateful for the support.

"Jenni, is there anything specific I should watch for?"

"Redness would be the main thing to watch for. Right now his eyes seem pretty clear, there isn't any excess leakage or anything else right now that should be a concern. Has there been a lot of pain, Sam? Any burning?"

"Sometimes."

"Now?"

Sam flinched as she moved to the other eye. "Ah, not so much."

Jenni looked back up at Dean. He had his jaw clenched tightly as he watched Jenni examine his brother. "He'll need to be medicated more frequently now that his eyes are starting to heal, especially since you said his tear ducts are healing."

Dean nodded.

"Sam, does this eye hurt right now?" Jenni asked studying Sam's left eye closely.

"It burns a little."

Jenni frowned and looked to Dean. "Go get me a clean towel and a bowl of hot water."

Dean's eyes widened a little but he did as he was told after giving Sam's shoulder one final squeeze.

Jenni waited until Dean had left the room before turning back to Sam again. "Sam, really how does this eye feel?"

"It burns."

"How bad?"

"Worse than the other."

"That's what I thought. It's all pink on one side, when's the last time you were medicated."

"A couple hours ago, I think."

Dean chose that moment to rejoin them, clean towel and bowl in hand. He handed the ordered things to Jenni and resumed his stance next to Sam; hand on his baby brother's shoulder.

"Sam, I need you to lie down. Can you do that or do you want Dean to help you?"

Sam shook his head. "I can do it."

Jenni and Dean got out of the way as Sam struggled. It took a minute or two but Sam was finally on his back, head propped up on a few pillows, since Dean had snatched one from his bed as well. Jenni resumed her position and took the towel, dunking it in the bowl of hot water before gently dabbing at Sam's eye. Sam tried to squeeze his eye shut against the rough material but Jenni used her free hand to keep it open.

"I'm sorry, Sam. I know this is uncomfortable but I need to see…" Jenni once again began cleaning Sam's eye. Sam's eyes began to water, and a few tears began to leak free and run down his face. Jenni placed the towel next to the bowl. "Dean, where's his medication?"

Dean retrieved the bottles and watched as Jenni quickly administered Sam's medication into both eyes.

"Do you have any gauze pads left? They are going to be really sensitive for the next twenty four hours and it would be best if they were covered to prevent any further damage."

"Yeah, I think so." Dean left the room to go retrieve the items.

"Sam." Jenni said quietly as she heard the soft groan coming from her patient. "I know you don't like the pads but they'll help. And this is really important, when your eyes start to burn again get your brother to medicate you immediately…from the looks of it there could be an infection trying to start so I'd like to nip it in the bud while we are still on top."

Sam's eyes were closed and a few more tears squeezed out from under his lids. "Ok."

Dean returned with the gauze pads and helped Sam to sit up while Jenni placed the gauze pads over Sam's eyes before wrapping a gauze strip all the way around his head. "Dean, be on the look out for redness of the sclera."

"The what?"

"Sorry, the sclera is the white around the iris or the colored part of Sam's eye. If there is any redness in the sclera it could mean an irritation, which would be a lot better than an infection. Keep an eye out for discharge as well…especially if the tears run bloody. If that happens call me immediately or run him into the hospital."

"Ok." Dean cast an uneasy glance at his brother, feeling his stomach clench uncomfortably.

"Ok, Sam…I brought you some soup…I know you're probably not that hungry, but you need to eat." Jenni waited until Dean had helped Sam lean back against the headboard again before placing the tray on Sam's lap.

Sam was rigid, his head felt heavy and his body ached with fatigue. He knew he wouldn't be able to feed himself but was far too embarrassed to ask Dean for help in front of the nurse. Jenni and Dean seemed to catch on anyway though.

"Dean, I'll go fix you a plate and warm it up…you have a microwave right?"

"Yeah there is."

"Coffee ok?"

"Sounds great, thanks."

Jenni gave Dean a soft smile and left.

"So…" Dean trailed off as he lifted the spoon from the watery soup. He wrinkled his nose and looked at his brother. "You hungry?"


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22

Jenni placed the cup of hot black coffee onto the table, alongside the plate loaded with stroganoff. She wrapped a few stray locks of hair behind her ear and chewed on her lip for a moment. She wasn't sure if Sam would be done yet, but she had to go, she still had to work in the morning. So she might as well let Dean know that she was heading out.

She snatched her purse off the table and left the kitchen, turning toward the bedroom only to see Dean emerging from it. He had the tray balanced on one hand while the other pulled the door almost closed, leaving it open just a crack.

His head snapped up when he felt her gaze on him and he offered her a smile as he walked away from the door.

"How is he?"

"He's asleep, finally." Dean headed for the kitchen and disappeared inside it. Jenni followed him, leaning against the doorframe separating the two rooms. Dean placed the tray and empty soup bowl in the sink and stared out the window to the dark night, his face suddenly hard.

"Dean? Is everything ok?"

Dean shot her a glance over his shoulder before returning his gaze to the window. "Yeah, it's fine."

Jenni could tell by Dean's tense posture alone that something was bothering him, but didn't push it. She had been in situations like this before and pushing never seemed to help anything. Instead she waited quietly, her arms crossing over her chest, her eyes straying to the floor.

"Do you…I mean will Sam's eyes ever fully recover from this?" Dean still wasn't looking at her.

"Honestly, Dean, I have no idea."

Dean's head fell, his chin resting against his chest for a moment before he sniffed loudly and turned around, his eyes red rimmed and shiny. "I keep telling him that he'll be ok…that everything will be the way it was…but he doesn't believe me."

"Do you believe it?" Jenni finally looked up at him, her face empty of any emotions.

"I don't know." Dean shook his head. He looked away from the nurse to study the far wall.

"Dean, Sam isn't going to believe it if you don't."

"But I don't know that he's going to be ok." Dean's voice had quickly taken on a defensive tone. He glared angrily at the young nurse, his eyes narrowed to mere slits.

"Dean, Sam's chances of a full recovery are almost 100%. The fact that he's healing already is very promising…"

"You don't see it…he can't…_we_ can't live this way."

"Dean…"

"No, you don't understand. I can't…" Dean trailed off. He lifted a hand to rub at his nose for a minute while he obviously tried to compose himself.

"Dean, I know this has been hard. I'm sure it has been a big strain…"

"That's not it." Dean interrupted suddenly intense again. "I don't have a problem looking after my brother. I just…I can't protect him like this."

"What do you mean? Protect him from what?"

Dean's jaw locked and his chin dropped once more. It was obvious that he wasn't going to answer Jenni's question.

"Dean, you can't protect him from the outside world if that's what you mean. He's going to stumble, he going to trip, and yes people are going to stare, but you can help him through it. If he knows you're there to back him up…"

Dean let out a laugh that sounded somewhat strained. "Sam doesn't want my help."

"Not on the surface maybe, but we both know that he needs you around, Dean."

"Does he?"

Jenni was startled at the question, Dean's eyes locked with hers and she was astounded by the hurt that was pouring from them. "Of course he does. You've been the one to get him through this far, Dean. You know that…don't you?"

"If it wasn't for me he wouldn't even be here."

"Dean…"

"Food smells good." Dean pushed away from the sink and sat quickly at the table, shoveling a forkful of the food into his mouth.

Jenni chewed on the inside of her cheek as she watched Dean pick slowly over the food on his plate. Clearly he was done talking. She pulled her keys out of her purse and toyed with them for a minute. Dean looked up at her, his face expressionless once more.

"I have to go, I have the early shift tomorrow." Jenni apologized as she made her way to the door.

Dean stood up and hurried to the door, reaching it a second before she did. He held it open for her and walked her out to the porch. "Thanks, Jenni. For coming out and for dinner."

"No problem, Dean. I'm glad to help. Just make sure you watch Sam's eyes closely for the next twenty-four hours. His left one especially."

Dean nodded. "I will…oh and how much do I owe you for…?" He started to pull his wallet out of his back pocket but Jenni laid a hand on his arm to stop him.

"Don't worry about it."

"Jenni…"

"I said, don't worry about it. It's on the house this time." She winked and hurried down the steps.

Dean watched her until she was in her mustang and pulling away from the bungalow. He took in several deep breaths and sighed before stepping back inside, not wanting to stray out of hearing distance, just in case Sam woke up.

***  
It was close to midnight before any sounds came from the bedroom. Dean was sitting on the couch, staring blankly at the TV program he had managed to find. He pressed the mute button and listened intently. It was almost impossible to hear but it sounded like Sam was up. Knowing it would be best if he got up and checked it out, just in case, Dean dropped the remote on the coffee table and got to his feet.

He pushed the door to the bedroom open a bit and saw that Sam was indeed up, scratching at the gauze taped over his face. "Sam? What are you doing?"

Dean flipped on the light and hurried to Sam's bed, sitting on the edge, before quickly restraining Sam's frantic scratching.

"Ah, it burns. Dean, it burns."

"Ok, lay down. We'll get you some more meds."

Sam did as he was told while Dean retrieved the drops from the bedside table. Dean slipped a hand under Sam's neck, lifting Sam's head off the pillow, while the other unwound the gauze strip that had been wrapped around his brother's head.

Once the gauze strip was removed Dean placed Sam's head back on the pillows and took off the gauze pads. He gently lifted Sam's right eyelid and examined the blank eye carefully under the dull motel lights. The sclera was still white, no signs of infection. Good. He administered the drops and closed the lid again before moving onto the left.

He swore silently as he lifted the lid and saw the bright red sclera of Sam's left eye. _Damn it!_

"Ah, it burns." Sam tried to pull away from Dean's rough fingers, which were only adding to the pain in his eye.

"Sam, I need to put in the drops. You need to hold still." Dean ground his jaw together and dropped some of the medication into Sam's red eye.

Sam jerked and tried to sit up but Dean placed a restraining hold on his brother's chest, keeping him down.

Dean released the lid and allowed it to close once more. Sam squeezed it shut tightly, excess liquid oozed out from under the lids before running down his face and to the pillow below.

"Sam, did it hurt this bad before?"

Sam didn't speak for a minute, concentrating only on breathing. He finally shook his head slowly; his face twisted as another burning sensation spiked in his left eye, shooting through the rest of his body. "N…No. It's worse…this time."

Dean chewed on his bottom lip, unsure of how to help his brother.

Sam's hand fumbled on the bed before finally finding Dean's arm. He clung to it tightly, his fingernails clawing into Dean's skin as he tried in vain to breathe through the pain assaulting him.

"Deep breaths, Sammy."

"Hurts."

"It's gonna be ok, Sam. Just breathe through it."

Sam's fingers tightened on Dean's arm, his fingernails digging deeper into Dean's flesh. Dean winced but let Sam have the outlet he needed. Dean closed his own eyes and drew in a deep breath; silently counting the seconds it was taking for Sam's medication to kick in.

It was several minutes before Sam's grip on Dean's arm slackened and his body visibly relaxed as the burning sensation dulled to an irritating itching sensation. Dean opened his eyes and looked down at his brother, Sam's face was still too concentrated for him to be asleep.

"Sam, how's the burning?"

"It's better, doesn't burn as much."

"Still bothering you?"

"No, not so much."

"I need to get a better look at it."

Sam nodded. "Ok."

Dean gently peeled back the eyelid to Sam's left eye, studying the red sclera closely for any causes of irritation, but found none. "We really should get you back in, Sam. It looks really red."

That was an understatement. Sam's whole eye was bloodshot, even the iris and pupil had a red glaze across them.

"No."

"Sam."

"No, I don't want to go." Sam pulled away from Dean's touch and allowed his eye to close again. "Not now."

Dean shook his head and glared at his stubborn brother. "So when do you suppose we go? When your eye is so infected that we can't even get it open? Is that what you want, Sam?"

"No."

"Well than you tell me what you want to do, because you're the one calling the shots around here. A minute ago you couldn't even move because your eye hurt so bad, now you don't want to get it checked out?"

Sam took in a deep breath but didn't answer, a few tears leaked out from under his closed lids.

Dean sighed and got off the bed, only to sit on his own. He buried his face in his hands and rubbed vigorously trying to wipe away the weariness and frustration he could feel coming off his body.

"You think I don't know?"

Dean's head snapped up and he glared once more at his brother. "Don't know what?"

Sam's head turned in Dean's direction, his eyes remaining closed. "What this is doing to you? How hard this has been on you?"

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"I'm blind, Dean. Not dumb. I don't need to be blind to know what this is doing to you."

"Sam, don't."

"Even the way you walk has changed. You kind of shuffle your feet now, you've never done that before."

Dean rubbed at his jaw, unsure if he was supposed to comment on this or not, or whether Sam was just talking to himself. His response, apparently, wasn't needed because Sam continued.

"You sound so tired, Dean. Even now I heard you in the other room with the TV on. So I know you weren't sleeping. You're always doing everything, making sure that I'm taken care of, never thinking of what you need…"

Dean let out a soft breath, his eyes locked on his hands. "Sam, please."

"Why? Why are you doing this, Dean?"

Dean didn't answer, he knew why and that was enough. Sam was his brother, his responsibility, his job was to look out for Sam. But Sam didn't see it that way. He had to question everything, had to know the reason behind everything.

"Dean?"

Dean shook his head. He knew a way to get out of this without having to spill his guts to his baby brother. He was too tired to get into one of the caring sharing kind of moments. "Sam, if it had been me that had been attacked by the harpy, who had gotten hurt…would you have left me out there?"

"No."

"If I was in your position and you were in mine right now…would you be doing anything different?"

"No, of course not. You're my brother, Dean."

"That's why I'm doing this, Sam. You're my brother." Dean pushed himself off the bed and brushed his hands against his jeans.

"Where are you going?"

"Turn off the TV. I just put it on mute."

"Oh."

Dean walked quickly out of the bedroom and back to the living room. He needed a minute, just a minute to pull himself together before he went back in there to face the rest of the night with his brother. He walked over to the TV and smacked the button, turning the machine off. He took in several deep breaths, willing his pounding heart to slow. He had to keep it together for Sam's sake.

After a few deep breaths, and when he was certain he could keep his game face on for his brother, he returned to the bedroom. Sam was sitting up, holding his eyes in his hands.

"Sammy?"

"Dean, it's burning again."

"We just put the drops in." Dean hurried to the bed and pulled Sam's hand away from his eye, his eyes widened in shock.

"Keeps watering, can't get it to stop." Sam moaned, trying to fight Dean's hold on his arm.

"Don't touch it, Sam. Get up. We're going to the hospital."

"Why?" Sam's head lifted so Dean could see it better in the motel light, making him quicken their pace.

"You need to see a doctor, Sam. Come on, don't bother with your clothes."

"I'm in my sweatpants. I'm not wearing a shirt."

"They won't care. Come on!"

Sensing Dean's fear Sam did what he was told and pushed himself to his feet, wobbling for a moment, and then leaning against his brother's strong body as Dean's arm snaked around his waist.

"What's wrong?"

"Jenni warned us about this, told me to get you to the hospital immediately if it happened."

"If what…?"

"Sam, don't worry about it now. Let's just get to the hospital." Dean pulled Sam's other arm across his shoulders and tore his gaze away from Sam's face and the bloody tears that were squeezing out from under Sam's left lid.


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23

Getting Sam through the bungalow, down the porch steps, and into the impala was a blur. Dean wasn't quite sure how he had managed it so quickly, especially with Sam sagging against him limply. But he had and now the impala was roaring down the dark streets as Dean desperately searched for the signs that would point him in the direction of the hospital.

Sam had a cool cloth over his eyes, pressing firmly against it to try and stop the burning sensation that was making him tear up and his head pound. He would moan every time the impala took a sharp turn or hit a nasty pothole. Dean shot him constant worried gazes, although it was hard to see much in the dim light that only briefly flooded the impala, either from the distant streetlights or a very rare car passing in the opposite direction.

Dean made another sharp turn, the impala's backend swerving dangerously close to the curve in a fishtail before Dean straightened the classic out and gunned the accelerator once more shooting them forward with an accompanied predatory growl from the engine.

Sam moaned again, pressing harder against the damp towel, his body going limp against the door.

Dean shot him a glance from the corner of his eyes and ground his jaw together. It was killing him that he couldn't do something to help release some of the pain Sam was in at the moment. His fingers tightened on the steering wheel, his foot tapping the accelerator a bit more, going as fast as he dared.

As he neared the next intersection, a car that was at the nearby gas station shot out in front of them. Dean swore loudly, he had nowhere to go, and the car in front of him was going much slower than he was. He knew a crash was going to be impossible to avoid if he didn't act fast.

"Shit, hold on!" Dean released the wheel with one hand and pushed firmly against Sam's chest as both feet slammed on the break. The tires locked and the impala started to skid with a horrific squealing sound. The back end of the impala began to spin around as the classic fought to get traction to avoid the car in front of them.

Fortunately, for once, luck seemed to be on Dean's side. When the two cars were just about to collide, the car in front of Dean made a sharp turn onto the adjoining road. Dean released the breaks slightly and focused on straightening out the classic, still keeping a firm hold on his brother.

Sam for his part was sitting forward, his hands clenched on the seat, his damp towel all but forgotten. His eyes were scrunched, a few more tears squeezed out from underneath his closed lids. He was breathing in short gasps; sweat was beginning to trickle down his brow. His jaw was clenched tightly, and although the light was horrible Dean could see that Sam had paled dramatically.

Within a few seconds Dean had managed to straighten out the classic and had her pulling over to the side of the road. He shifted the impala into park and let the engine rumble. He took in a deep shuddering breath, glancing in his rearview mirror to see the car that had caused so much trouble tear up the road and disappear out of sight. "Holy…"

Sam groaned.

Dean dropped his hand from Sam's chest and assessed his brother. Sam was starting to look a little green now; he had one hand wrapped around his stomach the other pressed against his mouth.

"Sam? You ok? Sammy?!"

Sam shook his head slowly, but the movement was too much for him. He felt the bile rising and quickly tried to fumble for the latch to the door. He seemed to have trouble finding it and fumbled around, growing more desperate by the passing second.

When he was almost ready to forget it and give in to his body's needs, the door was wrenched open and two strong hands reached in and helped him out of the car. Sam groaned as he was lowered to the ground, his stomach expelling all its contents in a few desperate moments. But even when he was sure he had managed to rid himself of all the soup he had eaten for dinner his stomach continued to rebel, making him expel nothing but burning acid. His throat ached, fresh tears ran down his cheeks, his head pounded and his arms shook from holding him upright.

His body bucked against the assault that was currently wracking it and he flinched inwardly as his stomach once again rebelled against him. He could feel his arms ready to give out on him as he finished, threatening to drop him in mess he had just made. He spat weakly, trying to rid his mouth of the burning and aftertaste of the acidic bile.

He felt Dean's hands on him, gently rubbing the back of his neck and upper back. He found the motion soothing and concentrated on his breathing, trying to get in enough to fill his lungs, rather than the short gasps that was currently making his body shudder with every breath.

"Easy, Sammy. Just let it out, dude."

Sam shuddered and tried to sit back, fairly certain that he had nothing else to expel. His body trembled and refused to obey his brain's commands. He felt his arms buckle and found himself starting to fall forward.

Dean's strong arms wrapped around Sam's chest, stopping his face plant. He found himself being pulled back against a strong solid chest. His head lolled limply against Dean's collarbone, turning in towards Dean's neck.

"Calm down, Sam. Just take deep breaths."

Sam tried to obey but couldn't get oxygen into his lungs fast enough. He felt like he was suffocating. More tears trickled down his cheeks, despite his efforts to stop them.

A warm hand lifted to his forehead, brushing aside the bangs that were tickling his closed eyelids. He was comforted by the touch. He focused on it as his lungs expanded more slowly, allowing more oxygen into them, his gasps quickly turning into deep regulated breaths.

Dean frowned at the heat radiating from Sam's skin but kept his hand where it was. He kept his other arm around Sam's chest, pining him to his own. Sam seemed to relax in the touch and soon was breathing more regularly.

Dean let out a breath he didn't realize he had been holding. The worried crease between his eyebrows smoothed out as he felt his brother continue to calm. His eyes lifted to the deserted street. It was almost dark, most of the nearby stores had closed for the night, all the lights were off. The impala's headlights flooded the road before her with light, but no other cars were making rounds at this hour. He chewed on his lip, trying to get his bearings and figure out how to get Sam to the hospital as quickly as possible.

Sam shivered in his grasp, turning Dean's gaze back to his brother.

"Sammy, you ready to go?"

Sam nodded weakly.

"Ok, come on." Dean got to his feet, easily pulling Sam along with him. Sam once again sagged against him, his shaky legs no longer wanted to support him, which left it up to Dean to get them both back into the impala.

Dean tightened his hold on his brother as he stumbled the few feet to the impala and settled Sam's frame into the passenger seat. He reached over the backseat and snatched a blanket they had stolen from one motel or another and wrapped it around Sam's trembling form.

Sam's eyes opened, and although it was impossible for Sam to see him, Dean could have sworn that those puppy dog eyes had looked right into his own for a brief moment. It only lasted for a split second before Sam closed his eyes again and rested his head on the back of the seat.

From this angle Dean could see the dark red blood streaks that ran from Sam's eye. The bloody tears had dried themselves out halfway down Sam's cheeks and left dark dots on Sam's skin. Dean gazed at the now filthy damp cloth that was lying on the impala's floor and decided to leave it there. He did, however, search for a bottle of water, finding one fairly quickly under the seat. There were always quite a few half filled bottles in the impala.

He unscrewed the lid and pressed the bottle to Sam's lips. "Come on, Sammy. Rinse out."

Sam obediently took in a mouthful and swished it around in his mouth. Dean helped him to lean out of the car and he spat it out into the gutter. Dean then insisted that Sam drink a few mouthfuls of the warm liquid before he gently poured the rest of it over Sam's bloodied cheek.

The dark red speckles disappeared in watery pink rivulets. Dean tossed the now empty bottle over the backseat and shut his brother's door before hurrying around to the driver's side and climbed in. He yanked the impala into drive, and with a firm hand on Sam's chest tore away from the curb.

***  
By the time the brothers reached the hospital Sam's eye was burning horribly again, and Dean's nerves and patience were shot. He pulled up in front of the emergency entrance, killed the engine and hurried around to the other side to help his brother out of the car.

Sam was exhausted and in serious pain. He stumbled over his own feet, constantly tripping himself, making the walk into the hospital that much harder for both brothers. Dean managed to get Sam in through the doors and yelled for help. A nurse close by quickly assessed the situation and got a gurney, which Sam was gratefully lowered onto before he was whisked away.

Dean was led to the familiar hard chairs that accompanied the waiting process, and handed a clipboard to fill out Sam's information on. The nurse finally told him that the doctor would come and speak to him shortly before she went back to her station. Dean did his best to fill in the paperwork, but couldn't for the life of him remember which name was on the insurance card. He managed to get his wallet out of his pocket, but couldn't make his trembling fingers retrieve the plastic insurance card from its spot.

The nurse at the station watched Dean with a sympathetic eye. After a few unsuccessful attempts to retrieve his insurance card she stepped over and relieved him of the clipboard and joined him. She didn't say anything, she just watched him as he fought to get control of himself. He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, his hands over his face, scrubbing furiously at his weary eyes.

She had seen it all before, and she knew without a doubt that it would happen again. Family members falling apart or in distress because of injured or sick family members. It was never easy to witness, no matter how many times she had seen it.

"You can finish these later." She finally offered after sitting quietly beside Dean for several minutes.

Dean turned toward her, his own green eyes rimmed red with lack of sleep. Dark bags hung under his eyes, stress lines were creased in his forehead, his lips were drawn in a thin line. He nodded and offered her a half smile before turning his gaze back to the floor.

The young nurse left him there, returning to her station to enter the data that Dean had managed to provide. As the time passed she became increasingly busy as phones rang, faxes came in, and doctors stopped by to get files or information from her. Through all this the man in the waiting room never budged. He sat there with his head in his hands, his back hunched, his fingers clenched in his hair.

When another nurse came to relieve her of her duties so she could have her lunch break she shot another glance at the distressed man and walked down the hall to the break room. She made herself a cappuccino and sipped at the warm liquid while her eyes scanned the unappealing magazines that covered one of the two tables in the room.

She selected one reluctantly, if for no other reason than to have something to do. She flipped through the pages lazily, not really all that interested in the dramatics of movie stars' lives. She had seen so many more people go through so many worse problems by working here. She closed the magazine within a few page turns and pushed it away, sipping again at her warm cup.

Her gaze wandered lazily over the untidy break room and over to the far wall where the clock was hung. It was quarter to six now. Her shift would end at eight, when her friend Jenni would come in to relieve her until ten tonight. She sighed and looked into the milky confines of her drink, a loose brown curling falling into her face.

She brushed it away impatiently and stood up, no longer finding her drink appealing she tossed it into the trash. She started to make her way out of the room but stopped short. Her mind straying back to the distressed young man sitting in the waiting room just outside of her station. She chewed on her lip for a moment before going back and grabbing a Styrofoam cup and a fresh pot of coffee. If anyone could use the caffeine he certainly could.

***  
Dean was somewhere between awake and asleep, his exhausted body and mind no longer willing to comply with his attempts to stay alert and focused for Sam's sake. In his exhausted state his mind wandered to recent events. It wasn't exactly pleasant for him to see and he involuntarily jerked at some of the more unpleasant memories that assaulted him.

_"You know you fight and you fight for this family…but the truth is…they don't need you. Not like you need them." ___

_Pain. Blood. Yellow eyes. Dad. Sammy. ___

_"Killing this demon comes first, before me, before everything." ___

_Sammy's eyes. So worried. So much blood. Dad's anger. ___

_"No sir, not before everything." ___

_Bright lights. Crunching metal. More pain. More blood. Black. ___

_"You took care of Sammy, you took care of me. You did that. And you never complained, not once." ___

_"Is this really you talking?" ___

_"I want you to watch out for Sammy." ___

_"Yeah, Dad. You know I will." _

Dean scrunched up his eyes and rubbed at his forehead. Bang up job he had done on his last promise to his father. He was doing one hell of a job looking after his brother. He sniffed loudly and lifted his head from his hands, blinking against the bright lights of the hospital, trying to adjust them after having them closed for so long.

"Sir?"

Dean jerked back, caught unawares by the nurse that had suddenly appeared by his side, a steaming Styrofoam cup in her hand.

"You looked like you could use it."

Dean offered her a tired smile and accepted the cup, but didn't bother to drink any. He didn't think he could stomach it at the moment. Instead he stared into the dark cup, his eyes going glassy once more. The small nurse chewed on her lip and returned to her station.

"How's he doing, Rach?"

She shook her head, her dark brown curls swinging against the back of her neck. "He's not doing too good, Cami. But maybe he'll feel better when he finds out about the man he came in with."

"Has Dr. Runes said anything yet?"

"No. But it looked like an infection from what I saw of it."

"You want me to go see if I can find something out?"

"That would be great."

The other nurse gave Rachael's shoulders a quick squeeze and hurried away through the swinging doors to catch up with Dr. Runes.

Rachael's gaze returned to the man in the waiting room. The coffee cup was on the low table in front of him, untouched, his fingers were once again clenched in his hair.


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter 24

Morning hours were always busy at the hospital, and as the small hand on the clock passed the seven it proved that today would be no exception. Rachael soon lost all track of time and the distressed man in the waiting area. Being kept busy with new patients Rachael couldn't even spare a glance in Dean's direction. But as the hands strolled closer to eight the stream of people died down, leaving the waiting room almost empty and Rachael was given a small breather.

She sighed as she sat back in her chair, her eyes glued to the screen of her computer and the data that had just been entered for her latest patient. Eighty-year-old John Clarkson who had fallen and broken his hip again. It wouldn't be the first time, but hopefully it would be the last. He was a stubborn old badger and was cranky as hell whenever he came in. He was always throwing insults and making it impossible to analyze him. Rachael wouldn't be sorry to see him leave.

She tore her gaze away from the computer, her eyes drifting to the lone still hunched, still unmoving, figure in the hard waiting chair. She felt her heart clench at the pathetic form. Cami had come back empty handed, saying Dr. Runes hadn't finished examining the other young man, making it impossible for either of them to give the man in the waiting room any relief.

They were still unable to get any more information from him. He sat quietly with his fingers gripping his dark sandy hair, the muscles in his back taut from the position he held them in. The coffee Rachael had offered him earlier had remained untouched, and was now cold and undesirable.

"Hey, Rach."

Rachael jumped and turned to see Jenni entering the station. Her short blonde hair was pulled back in a loose French braid; a few stray locks had already pulled free and were dangling in front of her eyes. Jenni pushed them away impatiently before brushing at a piece of invisible lint on her white jacket.

"Hey, Jen."

"Long night?" Jenni guessed as she eyed her friend, her soft blue eyes shinning as she took in Rachael's slumped position and the heavy lines on her friend's face.

"No, it was actually pretty quiet for the most part."

"That's a change." Jenni teased as she sunk into the chair next to her friend and began looking through the files that had been pulled, as well as a few new ones that had been made. "I see 'Mr. Sunshine' himself is in this morning. Hurt his hip again?"

"Tripped on the front porch letting the cat out. Why he fired the home nurse we recommended I'll never know." Rachael shook her head disgustedly and rose to her feet.

"Was he the worst case then?" Jenni asked continuing to flip distractedly through the files.

"Actually, we had a pretty bad eye infection come in around one."

Jenni stiffened; she turned slowly to gaze steadily at her friend. "It wasn't a guy was it? Early twenties?"

"Yeah, actually." Rachael studied her friend as Jenni's gaze tore from hers and shifted to the files once again. Her fingers quickly flipping through the top ones until she came to the mysterious eye infection patient at the bottom.

"Couldn't get a lot of information from his friend, he seemed pretty shaken up."

"Brother, Rach. That's his brother." Jenni chewed on her lip and twisted to the computer, quickly typing in Samuel Evans and bringing up Sam's already filed records. "He still here?"

Rachael nodded and pointed to the waiting area where Dean was still sitting. Jenni followed her friend's finger and felt her heart sink. Dean looked horrible.

"Any news on Sam's condition?"

Rachael shook her head. "Cami tried to talk to Dr. Runes but didn't get much from him. He was in one of his better moods last night."

"Stupid bastard should have retired like everyone else his age." Jenni mumbled only loud enough for Rachael to hear.

Rachael scoffed. "Right, that is what _sensible_ people do."

"That man doesn't know the meaning of the word." Jenni chewed on her bottom lip, her forehead crinkling up in thought. She finally turned back to look at Rachael. "You in a hurry to get out of here, Rach?"

"Nope, Doug is out of town on business and the cats should be ok. What did you need, sweetie?"

"Think you can charm some information from Dr. Runes for me? Give me something that I can give his brother?"

Rachael turned back to look at Dean and nodded solemnly. "I'll see what I can do, hon. It looks like the poor guy has been through hell, the least we can do is find out how his brother is doing."

"Thanks, Rach." Jenni gave her a half smile even as her mind wandered to the last conversation she had had with Dean. She felt her heart clench painfully in her chest. It seemed to her like Rachael had just barely nicked a chip in the iceberg. Hell didn't begin to describe what these two had been through.

"Hey, Jen?"

"Yeah?"

"You know these two? You seem a little…I don't know…involved."

Jenni rolled her eyes. "Get your mind out of the gutter, Rach. It's not like that. I've been there to help out a couple times. That's it."

"Oh."

Jenni resisted the urge to smack her friend for the disappointed frown that made its way onto Rachael's face. Rachael had been so determined to set Jenni up; she even had her suspicions that Rachael was the reason that some red headed doctor had the hots for her. Still she knew that Rachael meant well, so she let it go.

"Well, maybe…you can talk to him?"

"Rach, he's worried about his brother. So unless I come with news on how Sam is doing I doubt he'll be interested in anything I have to say."

"Yeah, maybe you're right."

"You know I am. Now get going so you can get out of here."

Jenni watched as her friend disappeared through the swinging doors before letting her eyes wander over to Dean again. She wrapped a stray lock of hair around her ear and chewed on her lip, absent-mindedly pulling at the dry skin on it. _Shit._ This wasn't going to be easy, she knew how devastated and worried Dean must feel by now, he had practically shown his soul to her the night before and as hard as she tried she couldn't block the words that were swimming around in her head.

_"Sam doesn't want my help."___

_"Not on the surface maybe, but we both know he needs your help, Dean." ___

_"Does he? If it wasn't for me he wouldn't even be here." __  
__"You've been the one to get him through this far, Dean. You know that…don't you?"___

_"We can't live like this…I can't protect him like this."_

There was so much bitterness there, so much failure that laced his statements, it made Jenni freeze inside, wondering what could have caused a reaction like this. Screwing up was a part of life, everyone learns from the mistakes that they've made, but Dean…Dean was different. It was almost as if it went deeper than the surface, deeper than anyone could see…the failure seemed to dig right into his soul and it was ripping him apart.

Knowing that Sam would need to have his brother somewhat in tact when the doctor was ready to let Dean come back and visit, Jenni rose from her seat. The upcoming talk with Dean was going to be anything but pleasant and she knew it. Still she knew it was unavoidable. So steadying herself and shoving her shaking hands into her jacket pockets she left her station and made her way to Dean.

***  
He heard voices, but he wasn't sure who they belonged to or what they were saying. His head felt heavy, he couldn't open his eyes, and his throat was extremely dry. He wanted to say something…to find Dean. Dean had to be around here somewhere didn't he? Why did his arms feel like a thousand pounds? Why was his tongue glued to the top of his mouth? And more importantly, why couldn't he remember where he was?

The last thing that struck him with any real clarity was being in bed, with Dean helping him to lie down so he could get some more medication put in his eyes. He had the distinct feeling that hours had passed since then, but for the life of him couldn't recall what had happened during any of them.

That thought alone made him nervous. What had happened to Dean? Had they been attacked? Was Dean ok?

Sam heard an annoying beeping next to his head suddenly pick up its pace.

"Dr. Runes, he's coming to."

"Give him a sedative, we can't have him waking up yet."

_No._

Sam didn't want any drugs, he didn't want to go back to sleep. He wanted his brother; he needed Dean to be here, he couldn't do this without him. He heard the beeping pick up another notch and was suddenly aware that it was his heartbeat on a heart monitor he was hearing. He was in a hospital.

_Crap._

How had he ended up here? Was Dean being treated as well? If not where was he? Sam was sure that Dean wouldn't leave him if he could've prevented it. Something must be stopping Dean from getting to him. Sam fought as he felt the warmth of the drug starting to flow through his system, refusing to be pulled back into the dark abyss that offered peace.

_Dean? Where's Dean?_

"Dr. Runes?"

"I'm busy, Rachael."

"I know, sir. But isn't there anything we can…"

Sam heard no more as the drugs fully hit his system. He drifted off to the irritated grumbling of a strange man, all the while wishing for Dean.

***  
Jenni didn't make a sound as she sank into the chair next to Dean. He didn't look up at her; he maintained his hunched position, his hands still tangled in his short dark sandy locks. Jenni watched as Dean's muscles contracted every time he drew in a staggered breath. She tore her gaze away after a few seconds and shut her eyes, taking several deep breaths in through her nose.

The waiting room was unusually quiet, even the soft tick tock of the clock could be heard. In fact it sounded louder than it should have. Jenni found the rhythm of the clock rather calming and was able to clear her mind. She let a few more minutes tick by before she looked once more at Dean. He hadn't moved.

"Dean?"

Dean didn't answer her, and he didn't shift from his current position. But as Jenni watched she saw his white knuckles turn back to a healthy pink as he released his death grip on his tussled hair. She cleared her throat and twisted her fingers together.

"Dean?"

Dean turned his head slowly in her direction, his eyes blinking sluggishly. Jenni felt her heart jump to her throat as she took in Dean's appearance. The red rimmed eyes and dark purple shadows that lingered under them told her that Dean hadn't slept all night. His jawbone was rigid and his skin was deadly pale. To put it nicely, he looked like death warmed over.

_God, this is going to kill him._

The thought popped into Jenni's mind before she could stop it, she locked her jaw to keep the thought from escaping. It was the last thing Dean needed to hear right now. Dean kept his eyes on Jenni for a minute before he turned once more to the floor.

"How is he?"

Dean's voice was so soft, so unexpected, that Jenni felt her body involuntarily jump. She cursed silently to herself and twirled a stray lock of hair around her ear again as she stalled. When Dean's eyes once again strayed to her, the hurt and worry in them pushed her to answer.

"I don't know, Dean. Rachael has gone to see Dr. Runes…see if she can find something out."

Dean seemed to accept this. He blinked once and turned his gaze away from Jenni again.

"Dean, what happened after I left last night?"

Dean shrugged half-heartedly. "Sam said his eye hurt, so I gave him some more meds. I left the room a couple minutes and when I came back…he was…he had…" Dean's throat quivered and he shut his mouth again quickly. One hand rose and covered his eyes for a brief moment before he seemed to pull himself together again; he kept his jaw clenched and his eyes blank as he stared ahead at the far corner of the waiting room.

"Were his tears bloody?"

Dean didn't answer, but the slight jump in his jaw muscles were answer enough.

Jenni nodded and looked away again, giving Dean time to compose himself. "He'll be ok, Dean. Dr. Runes is his attending…he's not the most pleasant person in this hospital…but he's good. You couldn't ask for a better doctor to look after Sam."

Dean's head snapped around again, his eyes suddenly hard and cold. "You don't know he'll be ok."

Jenni found herself frowning as Dean continued to stare into her eyes, his green eyes were so cold it was sending goose bumps up her back and making the hair on the bottom of her neck stand on edge.

"Dean, even if the infection caused the bloody tears, you brought Sam in right away. That makes a world of difference. Although bloody tears aren't healthy they are a tell tale sign that you need to get help immediately, and you did. Sam is lucky that you were smart enough to bring him in right away."

Dean suddenly pushed himself to his feet. It was so quick that Jenni instinctively shot back in her seat, leaning as far away from Dean as she could.

"I need to go."

"What?"

Dean scratched at a spot behind his ear and turned once more to face the young nurse. "I need to go."

"As soon as Rachael gets back, I'm sure she'll have some kind of news on when you can go see…"

Dean shook his head. "No, I need to go."

A cold fear gripped Jenni's heart as she saw the cold resolve in Dean's eyes. He couldn't be serious? He was going to leave his brother here, on his own? Go God knows where and just leave Sam to his fate? She was certain that he couldn't be serious, but still he had shown her a piece of his soul last night, for a brief moment, before it had been hidden away again.

Dean blamed himself for what Sam was going through, thought that what had happened to Sam was his fault. She stared blankly at Dean for a minute before shooting to her feet herself and grabbing hold of his upper arms. She felt the hard muscles hidden underneath the folds of Dean's leather jacket, he was twice her size and she was sure he could easily shrug her off, but for some reason he didn't. Almost as if he wanted her to convince him to stay, as if he needed a reason to stay. Well if it was up to her, she was going to give it her best to convince him that he was needed here the most.

"You're kidding me right? You're going to just leave Sam here? Alone? God damn it, Dean! You know what happened before, you know how much your brother needs you…but still you're going to leave him?"

"What the hell…? I'd never leave my brother. _Never!_ I've never left him before, so why would I leave him now?"

"So why did you say…?" Jenni found herself taking a step back in shock.

Dean grinned, the cocky self-smug grin that Jenni loved to see. She smiled back as Dean gently eased himself out of her tight grip, blushing furiously when she realized that her fingernails had been digging into the folds of his jacket.

"I need to step out for a minute, grab a coffee. Some fresh air…"

"Right." Jenni caught on immediately. Dean had been sitting all night in the hard waiting room chair. He needed to stretch a bit and get something that would help keep him awake while he waited for news on his brother. "Do you want me to find you when Rachael comes back?"

"No, I'll be back in five minutes tops. I'll find you." Dean then brushed past her and strolled to the hospital entrance doors, pulling out a set of keys as he walked into the cold morning air. Jenni watched him until he disappeared into a sea of cars, and moments later a black car pulled out of its spot and disappeared from view.

Jenni suddenly felt very alone. The waiting room was empty now. She still had a gnawing feeling in her gut, something was off with Dean. The way he just took off…even to get some fresh air was just…wrong. She felt like kicking herself for letting him leave. If Rachael came back with news on Sam…that he was awake and was ready for Dean to come back…only to have Dean not be here…Jenni didn't even want to think about it. She knew it would bring pain to the youngest of the brothers. Still, Jenni had her phone in her office and had Dean's phone number programmed in it just in case she needed to get a hold of him. She just prayed that she was wrong and Dean would stick by his word.

Slowly she made her way back to her station, her eyes straying hopefully back to the clear hospital doors, hoping to see the black classic speeding back and Dean return.

***  
Rachael huffed as she stormed through the swinging doors fifteen minutes after entering them, returning to the station where Jenni was currently sitting. Her eyes strayed to the waiting room and widened when she found it empty.

"Jen?"

Jenni looked away from the computer screen to her friend. "Hey, Rach. Any news?"

"Yeah, Dr. Runes is being an ass."

Jenni couldn't suppress her laugh. She shook her head as Rachael played with the buttons on her white jacket. "That isn't news, Rach. Dr. Runes is always an ass. I meant…any news on Sam?"

"The infection should clear up in a day or two. He has a slight fever which is being brought down with antibiotics, and Dr. Runes has prescribed two new medications that are stronger than what Sam had before." Rachael pulled the prescriptions from her side pocket and handed them to her friend.

"Did he say when Dean can go see him?"

"Sam has been sedated to keep him under for a while, but that shouldn't be a problem if Dean wants to go see him. Speaking of which…" Rachael turned as if half expecting Dean to materialize out of thin air. "Where is he?"

"He stepped out."

"Stepped out?"

"He needed a break, Rach. He's been through a lot lately."

Rachael studied her friend for a minute, quickly recognizing the worried lines that were crinkled in the corners of Jenni's eyes.

"He's coming back, isn't he?"

"I hope so, Rach. Because if he doesn't…" Jenni trailed off, her eyes straying to the swinging doors and the injured brother that was hidden behind them. She sighed heavily and faced her friend once more. "If he doesn't, it's going to hit Sam hard."

"He'll be back, Jen. He doesn't seem like the kind of guy to leave his brother at a time like this."

"I know, you're right."

"Always." Rachael smirked and glanced at the clock before giving her friend an apologetic but tired smile.

"Go, you've had a long night."

"Call me if you need to."

"Rach…"

"I'm serious, Jen. Don't worry if I'm asleep or not, just call."

Jenni shook her head. "I can't…"

"Jen, promise me you'll call."

"Ok."

"Promise?"

"I promise, now get going. You're expected to be back here at ten and I won't leave my neck hanging on the line because you wouldn't go home."

"See you later, hon. Have a good day."

"I'll try."

Rachael offered Jenni another small smile then disappeared down the hall to collect her belongings so she could head out. Jenni watched her friend disappear before she grabbed the two prescriptions written in Dr. Runes untidy scrawl and shoved them in her jacket pocket. Her eyes drifted toward the door once more and then to the corner of her computer to check the time. Dean had been gone almost ten minutes now. She chewed her lip worriedly. She'd give him five more minutes before calling.


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter 25

Dean drummed his fingers against the steering wheel, his eyes staring blankly at the dash. He made no move to exit the confines of the impala. The coffee he had picked up remained untouched, the soft beats of Three Dog Night drifted from the impala's speakers.

_One is the loneliest number that you'll ever do__  
__Two can be as bad as one __  
__It's the loneliest number since the number one_

Dean pushed his thumb and forefinger over his eyes, pressing tightly. He reached over with his free hand and flipped off the radio, sending the impala into silence.

He hadn't gone far from the hospital; he had gone across the street and picked up his coffee before returning to the hospital parking lot. He had pulled into a spot just out of eyeshot of the front doors. He wasn't ready to return just yet, he couldn't.

He couldn't justify his actions, even to himself. He knew that Sam needed him, but he couldn't bring himself to leave the car. He couldn't face the reality that lay beyond those hospital doors. The way Sam had looked at him last night, the way those blank eyes had seen right through him after Dean had pulled his shivering and vulnerable brother back into the car had cut him to the core. He didn't know if he could face it again.

He didn't know if he'd be able to look at his brother and face the failure of being unable to protect him. Hell, he couldn't even keep a stupid eye infection under control, and once again it had landed his brother in the care of strangers.

The engine ticked as it continued to cool, the only noise in the otherwise quiet lot. Dean leaned his head back against the seat and dropped his hands into his lap. He let his eyes close and chewed on the inside of his cheek before locking his jaw.

On the seat beside him his phone started to vibrate. Dean slowly peeled his eyelids apart and glared down at the offending object. He made no move to grab it as it continued to move slightly on the seat. He watched it until it stopped vibrating and sat quietly once more. It buzzed again once and the screen lit up displaying that he had a new voicemail.

Right now he didn't care, he wasn't going to look to see who had called, or listen to the voicemail. It couldn't be that important. He crossed his arms over his chest and let his head fall back to the seat once more, his eyes locking on the ceiling.

***  
Jenni cursed quietly as she closed her phone, she tapped it against her chin thoughtfully. She contemplated on whether she should try calling him again right away or if she should give him a few minutes. For all she knew he could be standing at the end of some big ass line waiting for a halfway decent cup of coffee. People were always stopping for caffeine on their way to work around here, so it wouldn't be unheard of. She'd give him a few more minutes before trying again.

She turned her attention instead to some of the new patients that had trickled in during Dean's absence. Mrs. Lane had brought Tommy in with what looked like a sprained wrist, Jessica Grant had come in with a nasty gash to her forehead, and Mr. Peterson, who hadn't complained of anything, but had locked himself away in the corner of the waiting room. He was huddled in a small ball and rocking back and forth, mumbling to himself.

Jenni scanned through the new files she had pulled out and began to make notes on them. She set them out for the doctors' convenience when they came out to greet their newest patient. Jenni then busied herself with updating some of the files on the computer and answering telephone calls.

She had lost all track of time when Dr. Runes came through the swinging doors, his white thinning hair standing up in clumped tufts. His light, almost gray, eyes were cold and empty as he stopped next to her station. He tapped his fingers impatiently against the smooth surface, waiting for her to look at him.

Jenni lifted her eyes slowly, chewing patiently on the inside of her cheek. She glared at the older doctor, not trying to hide her dislike for the man.

"Is Mr. Evans' family here?"

"Not at the moment."

Dr. Runes glared at her for a minute, sizing her up. His eyes strayed from her face and drifted down her front before finally meeting her gaze once more.

Jenni found herself tugging her white jacket closer around herself, even though it was already buttoned up, leaving nothing exposed for the doctor to see.

"Where are they?"

"He went out for a minute."

"When?"

Jenni glanced at the digital clock displayed on the computer. "He's been gone almost half an hour."

Dr. Runes narrowed his eyes, the gray of his irises disappearing as his pupils expanded. "Where?"

Jenni rolled her eyes. "If I knew that we wouldn't be having this conversation."

"When he returns call me. I want to speak with him." Dr. Runes slapped his hand down on the station before turning and disappearing behind the swinging doors once more.

"Yeah right, jackass, I'll get right on that." Jenni muttered under her breath. She turned toward the clock once more and lifted her eyes to the doors. There was no sign of Dean, or the black impala. She chewed on her lip for a moment before lifting the phone from its cradle and punching in Dean's number.

She listened as it rang several times before the voicemail finally picked up. Frustrated she slammed the phone back without bothering to leave a message this time. She had already done that once. She just prayed that Dean listened to it and soon.

***  
A strange buzz made his head spin, he felt his eyebrows draw in over the bridge of his nose and his lips turn down in a frown. His eyes remained closed, they felt good closed. Something familiar and slightly padded was under his neck, supporting his head as it drifted to the side.

The buzz started again, he peeled his eyelids apart and took stock of where he was. It took him a minute to recognize that he was in the impala, parked at the hospital. But when had he fallen asleep? The seat beside him vibrated as his phone buzzed again.

Dean reached for the offending object with heavy arms, the phone seemed to weigh a lot more than he remembered. He lifted it sluggishly to his eye level and squinted to read the display screen. He had a two new voicemails, and several missed calls. _Shit._ How long had he been out?

Dean flipped the phone open, his eyebrows lifting as he saw the number of missed calls. Ten. He let his eyes fall to the time displayed on the screen and jerked up right. He had been out here for almost four hours. _Shit._

Without bothering to listen to the messages Dean shoved the phone into his jacket pocket along with the impala's keys and pushed open the door with his elbow. He stumbled a bit and grabbed onto the door to steady himself. His head spun for a minute, he took a deep breath in through his nose and squeezed his eyes shut, willing the dizziness back.

When he was sure he could stand on his own accord he straightened and shut the impala's door a little harder than intended. He didn't give it a second thought as he swiftly made his way across the parking lot and to the entrance doors.

They slid open automatically as he made his approach. He stepped inside the warm building, blinking several times as his vision adjusted to the dull hospital lights.

Jenni looked up from her post at the nurses' station, her eyes immediately narrowing to dangerous slits.

Dean offered her an apologetic smile as he made his way to her.

"Dean, where the hell have you been?"

Dean rubbed the back of his neck absent-mindedly. He let his gaze penetrate Jenni's. He didn't feel the need to explain himself to her, he shouldn't have to. Jenni glared steadily back into his eyes, a fire of her own burning behind her dark irises. Dean clenched his jaw, his hands balling into fists, he refused to back down.

"Dean?"

"It doesn't matter. I'm back."

Jenni stared at him with that dark gaze for several seconds before she finally broke the connection and reached into her white jacket pocket, retrieving two small slips of paper. She shoved them toward Dean and returned her gaze to his. "It does matter, Dean."

Dean cocked an eyebrow at her, his lips pursing as his defenses immediately shot forward, blocking her. It was none of her damn business what he did or did not do. He told her he'd be back and he was, didn't matter if it took him four and half hours or four days. He'd be back.

"Where the hell do you get off?"

Jenni cocked an eyebrow at him before she pressed her own lips together, melting them into a thin line. "You didn't listen to the messages did you?"

"Why the hell does it matter if I did or not?" Dean ignored the looks he was receiving from the people in the waiting area. He glared darkly at Jenni.

"God damn it, Dean!" Jenni rose from her station, and before Dean could blink she had him by the forearm and was shoving him toward one of the exam rooms. He let himself be steered away for a minute before he started to pull out of her grasp, no way was he going to let some pushy bitch shove him around. He wrenched his arm out of her grasp and dug his heels into the floor, stopping their forward momentum into the first exam room.

"Dean, you don't want to do this here." Jenni said quietly, her eyes drifted to a few of the shocked patients that were still sitting there. A young man Jenni had never seen before had gotten halfway out of his seat, his jaw clenched and eyes determined as if ready to help her if need be.

"Whatever you have to say, you can say it right here. I'm not going anywhere." Dean crossed his arms stubbornly over his chest, his chin dropping slightly so he could glare down into Jenni's face.

"Fine, you want to do this here? Fine! Sam woke up…he woke up Dean, and you know what? You weren't here! Dr. Runes came out to find you, but couldn't…you were gone! Dr. Runes couldn't get Sam to calm down, he told him you had left. Sam freaked, he tried to get up, managed to rip out his IV and tried to leave. He got his leg tangled around the bed and fell, he hit his chin on the bedside table and managed to cut it open. They had to sedate him, Dean! He wouldn't calm down."

Dean grabbed her arm and roughly shoved her into the exam room, slamming the door behind him. He stood with his back against the door, his arms once again crossed over his chest, his eyes locked on the floor.

"You still not convinced that Sam needs you around, Dean?" Jenni huffed, she felt winded and her arm ached from where Dean had grabbed her. She rubbed the spot unconsciously knowing she was going to bruise.

Dean lifted his eyes to meet hers for a brief moment before he once again looked to the floor. "How long?"

"For what?"

"When did he wake up?"

"About an hour ago. I tried to call."

Dean lifted his head and rolled his shoulders. He sniffed loudly and looked toward a chart hanging on the wall.

"Dean, where were you? I thought you said five minutes."

Dean didn't look at her, he kept his eyes locked on the chart, but Jenni saw his shoulders stiffen.

"Dean, did something happen?" Jenni stepped forward, ignoring the ache in her arm from where he had grabbed her.

Dean turned and met her gaze again, his eyes icy. "Yeah something happened. I fell asleep that's what happened. I was an ass and stayed out in that car knowing my brother was in here, knowing that he could wake up any time and I stayed out there anyway." Dean pushed away from the door and walked to the far wall, looking out the small window to the parking lot.

"Dean, you didn't know this was going to happen." Jenni stepped forward, all her anger suddenly melting in Dean's defeated posture.

"Yeah I did. I know Sam better than anyone. I should have known that he would have reacted that way if I wasn't here. He would have thought that I had left him here, that I wasn't coming back. I should have known that he'd try to come after me."

"Dean, why would he think you'd leave him here?"

Dean met her gaze for a moment before looking back out into the parking lot, he snapped his teeth together, locking his jaw. He took a deep steadying breath in through his nose and let his eyes shut for a moment.

Jenni saw this was a topic that Dean wasn't ready to discuss, not with her anyway. She didn't push it. Dean was back that was all that mattered for now. "You'll need to get those prescriptions filled. They're stronger than the last ones Sam had. Should help to keep the infections away."

Dean nodded once but said nothing.

"Do you want to see Sam?"

Dean turned to look at her again, his face remaining emotionless but his eyes betraying his need to see his brother.

"I'll take you to him." Jenni offered as she stepped back to the door and held it open for Dean. He stepped reluctantly away from the window and walked back into the waiting room, avoiding the looks that the other patients were giving him.

Jenni walked over to her station, picked up the two prescriptions Dean had left there and nodded toward the other patients quickly before hurrying to Dean. She grabbed his lower arm and steered him through the swinging doors, shoving the prescriptions into his hand as they walked through.

Dean crumpled the papers in his fist and shoved them into his pocket, keeping his hand there. He kept his gaze on the floor as he followed Jenni through the corridor, watching her heels as they clicked against the linoleum.

Jenni lead him down a couple halls before she finally stopped in front of a closed door. She lifted the chart from the wall beside the door and quickly read over what Dr. Runes had written there. Dean lifted his gaze to peer through the small window that looked into the room.

"Doesn't look like they gave him as big a dose this time." Jenni offered as she dropped the chart back into the bin. She placed her hand on the doorknob and gazed sadly at Dean. His eyes never left the window, although Jenni knew he couldn't see more than the bottom of the bed.

"Yvette is covering the nurses' station at two, that's when I take my lunch, I'll be on patient duty after that."

Dean didn't acknowledge that he heard her.

Jenni sighed. She'd come by to check on both brothers later, but now she had to return to her post. She turned the knob and pushed the door open for Dean.

Dean hesitated for a minute before taking a step forward into the room. He paused and looked back at her, his eyes considerably softer now. "Jenni, I'm sorry…I didn't mean…"

"Dean, don't. I understand."

Dean clenched his jaw and nodded once before turning away from her and making his way to the bed. Jenni pulled the door closed and curled a loose strand behind her ear once more before shaking her head once and heading back to her station.

***  
Dean pulled up a chair from the corner of the room and sat near the head of Sam's bed, his eyes locking on the white bandage that covered Sam's chin. He ran a weary hand down his face, rubbing at his own chin for a minute before he shifted his gaze to Sam's eyes.

Sam had a white gauze patch over one eye but the other was closed. It darted swiftly back and forth underneath its lid. His breath would occasionally catch in his chest and his hands would jerk at his sides. Dean slid forward on his seat and pressed a hand onto Sam's arm, gripping it tightly.

Sam instantly stilled, his body going rigid against Dean's touch. Dean didn't say anything as he watched Sam continue to dream. Then suddenly Sam's face relaxed completely and his head turned toward Dean, the white gauze patch over his eye disappearing into his pillow.

Dean sighed, rubbing his face with his free hand before running it through his tussled hair. He blinked the weariness away from his eyes. Even though he had gotten in a few hours of sleep, he hadn't slept well. He had slept in the impala before, on several occasions in fact, when funds had been low or when far away from civilization on a hunt. But still it wasn't the most ideal place to sleep when given a choice.

His neck felt stiff and his back ached from the awkward position he had taken in the seat before he had dozed off. Dean closed his eyes once more, taking in a deep breath trying to get control of himself, of the feelings that had risen to the surface when Jenni had told him what Sam had been through.

He couldn't believe he had been so stupid. He had gone out in that car and had seriously thought about taking off, just leaving Sam there. He couldn't protect him, he couldn't help him, he knew that Sam would be better off in the care of professionals who knew what they were doing. He had pushed that thought aside, but just barely. For reasons even he couldn't explain he had stayed.

He hated to think what would have happened to his brother if he hadn't, what Sam would have done if Dean had just taken off and not come back for him. Sam's brief panic attack would have been nothing if he had woken again and Dean still wasn't there, and no one could get a hold of him. Sam would have broken out of that hospital as fast as possible, blind or not, and gone looking for him.

Never again, he would never do that to Sam again. He couldn't. He didn't want to be the cause of Sam's pain again, he didn't want to be the reason that Sam would go out and hurt himself. He would be right here until Sam didn't need him anymore, and even then he wouldn't be far. Not until he knew that Sam was safe.

"Dean?"

Dean was pulled from his thoughts by the soft croak coming from the bed. He leaned further forward and squeezed Sam's arm gently in response. "Hey, Sammy."

"When'd you get back?" Sam's uncovered eye slowly opened and he blinked slowly at the spot right past Dean's shoulder.

"About ten minutes ago."

"Where were you?"

"Went to get some coffee, fell asleep in the car."

Sam's eyebrows narrowed until they met over in the middle. He clenched and unclenched his jaw a few times, Dean could almost see Sam's mind spinning. He braced himself for the onslaught of anger that was sure to be heading his way.

"You came back."

Dean frowned at that, Sam sounded relieved. "Of course."

"Thought you left me."

Dean tightened his hold on Sam's arm. Sam's free hand lifted and rested briefly on his stomach before Sam stretched his arm across his body and latched onto Dean, making his body tilt toward Dean.

"Didn't know where you went."

"Sam, you know I'd never leave you. Not unless you'd want me to."

"Never want you to."

"Ok."

Sam swallowed hard and let his head sink further into his pillow, he licked his dry lips, his blank eye roaming around in its socket.

"How's your chin?"

Sam gave him a slight shrug. "They stitched it up. Doesn't hurt."

Dean nodded once and dropped his gaze from his brother, instead focusing on the pale blue hospital sheets.

"Dean?"

"Hmm?"

"You ok?"

Dean sighed. He really wished Sam would stop asking him that. He knew Sam wasn't asking just about how he was physically. He was trying to get inside his mind, trying to get him to open up.

"I'm fine, Sam."

"You should go back to the bungalow."

"What?" Dean actually released his brother's arm and sank back in the chair, his eyes locking on his brother's relaxed face.

"You sound tired, Dean. You should go get some sleep."

"Sam, I'm not going anywhere."

Sam closed his eye again and let out an audible sigh. "When can I go home?"

"Don't know. Want me to go find out?"

"Yeah, then go back to the bungalow." Sam's voice was quiet, he sounded tired himself.

"Sam, I'm not going." Dean felt himself getting angry now.

Sam didn't answer him, his breathing was soft and steady. His eye was once again darting beneath his closed lid. Dean took in a deep and steadying breath running a hand through his hair once more. Despite what Sam wanted he wasn't going anywhere, not again. He'd stay with Sam until he was ready to go back to the bungalow himself.

So steadying himself he leaned back against the chair, his arms crossing over his chest, his eyes locked on his brother. He made himself as comfortable as he could and settled in for a long wait.


	26. Chapter 26

A/N: Thanks again guys for the support for this story – I really appreciate those of you who have taken the time to review. I will try to post some more this weekend, the rest of my week is going to be much busier than I'd like. So I hope this can hold until then.

Chapter 26

Jenni tossed her yogurt cup into the trash and walked to the sink to wash her hands. She let the water run hotter and longer than she would have normally. She let the water soothe some of the tension she felt building inside her. She looked down at her exposed arm to the red mark where Dean had grabbed her earlier. She closed her eyes briefly and looked back to the hot water, steam was floating up from the spout, turning into a small cloud as it found its way to the ceiling.

Jenni shut off the water and shook the excess water from her hands before grabbing a paper towel and drying off them completely. She walked back to the table and pulled on her white jacket once more, wincing as the soft fabric brushed against her sore arm.

Dean hadn't even grabbed her that hard, she had always bruised easily. It was the look in his eye as he had grabbed her that had startled her the most. They were almost dead. No part of Dean had shown through them. She had to admit to herself that she didn't know these brothers very well, but to see the absolute anger that had penetrated from Dean had been terrifying.

She had overstepped her bounds, she knew that now. Everyone had their limits and Dean had been at the edge of his when she had accused him of not being there for Sam. It had been the last straw for him and he had shoved her into the exam room so he could break down somewhat without the other patients looking at them. It wasn't to hurt her, it wasn't to scare her, it was to get information from her and to get himself away from the curious onlookers. Jenni couldn't blame him for that, it was why she had tried to get him in the exam room in the first place.

She chewed on her lip as she buttoned up the last button on her white jacket, tugging it a little tighter over the black dress she was wearing. She paused in front of the small face mirror that hung on the wall next to the lockers on her way out. She wiped hastily at the smudged mascara and scowled at the way her eyes were red and puffy. It would be obvious to anyone that she was upset, that she had been crying.

She shook her head at her reflection before turning and leaving the break room, hurrying down the hall to the nurses' station. She smiled at Yvette as she approached. Yvette smiled back and held out a hand for her friend. Jenni grabbed it tightly, grateful for the support, however brief, she soon released it and once again curled the stray locks that refused to be restrained behind her ears.

"So who am I looking at?"

Yvette eyed her friend for a minute, holding some of the files just out of Jenni's reach. "Jen, you ok?"

"I'm fine."

"Yeah you always look like crap when you're fine."

Jenni smirked and wipe hastily at her left eye as it watered up once more with angry tears. "Sorry, just had a rough start I guess."

Yvette studied her friend for a minute before she handed over the files, knowing Jenni would open up when she felt ready. "When you done today, sweetie?"

"Uh, six or seven. Whenever I feel like leaving I guess."

"Ok. Well Mr. Peterson is in room 412, Mr. Jackson is in 403, and Miss Bloomingdale is in room 431."

"Where is Sam Evans' file?"

Yvette frowned and moved aside some of the files cluttering her station before she drew it out and handed it to her friend as well. "He's in room…"

"427, I know." Jenni shoved the file to the back of her stack and pushed a pen over her ear.

"Jen, I don't know if it's true, but I heard some of the nurses talking about you today."

Jenni narrowed her eyes at her friend. "What are you talking about?"

"Well Kory said you were more…_involved_ with the Evans…she said it was more than medical interest."

"Shit. How the hell did she find out I don't even…" Her rant came to a stand still as she thought of Rachael. "like her." She finished, her eyes darkened as she stared at Yvette. "Give me the phone."

Yvette did as she was told, waiting for the number so she could punch it in for Jenni.

"Call Rachael."

"She's probably sleeping."

"Just call her." Jenni said darkly pushing the receiver to her ear and listening to the beeps as Yvette punched the numbers.

The phone rang three times before a very tired Rachael answered. "Hey Rach, it's Jen. Tell me did you talk to Kory this morning?"

***  
Dean ran a weary hand over his face for what felt like the hundredth time in the last five seconds. It was getting harder and harder to keep his eyes open. His exhaustion from being up for the past couple of nights so he could be with Sam was wearing down hard on him, he knew he wouldn't be able to stay awake for much longer.

His eyes never strayed from his brother. As he sat there staring at his brother his mind wandered to Jenni, and the way she had looked at him when he had shoved her into that exam room. Her eyes had been wide and her pupils blown. She had grabbed her arm right after Dean had released her, pulling it closer to her body, rubbing at that particular spot with her thumb.

Dean knew he hadn't grabbed her that hard, but still it didn't erase the look she had had on her face, or the way her eyes had darted around the room frantically for a moment, as if looking for an escape route. Dean felt bad about that, he had not meant to scare her. He had just needed to get away…to get answers. Still he owed her, and he knew it. He was out of line.

No matter how broken he was, no matter how upset or worried he was he couldn't take it out on someone who had been nothing but helpful during this whole thing. Someone who actually cared enough to give a damn about this whole thing. Someone who had dropped everything at a last minute's notice to come to his aid when needed. Dean gripped at the sides of his forehead, his fingers gripping a few locks of tussled hair, he silently berated himself. He couldn't believe that he had treated her like that. He wouldn't be surprised if she told him to go screw himself, he deserved nothing more.

Sam hadn't moved since the last time he and Dean had talked, he had slept soundly for the next couple hours. Sometimes shifting if a dream became too rough for him to handle, but each time that happened Dean would place a warm hand on Sam's arm and he would instantly still and relax into Dean's touch.

It was nearly four in the afternoon before the door opened and Jenni reappeared. She brushed past Dean, not speaking, and turned her full attention on Sam. She carefully tilted Sam's head toward her so she could check the eye beneath the gauze patch.

She seemed satisfied with the progress and replaced the bandage with a new one before lifting the bandage from Sam's chin and checking the wound there as well. She frowned a bit as she studied the small delicate stitches keeping the skin on Sam's chin together, but after a moment seemed satisfied and replaced the bandage there as well.

Dean watched her in silence, chewing on his tongue, wondering what he should say to her. He had never felt so tongue tied when it came to a woman. He had a natural gift for being able to open up with just the right thing to get a girl to trust him. Sam often rolled his eyes at how quickly Dean would be heading off to a strange apartment owned by a girl he had just met. Dean didn't care, hunting was hard, he figured that if he was going to go out and risk his neck for strangers he should at least get a little fun out of life in return.

But this, well this was different. He knew Jenni on a different level, and she knew him on a much deeper level than he allowed most people to see. That terrified and embarrassed him at the same time. He had allowed himself to be vulnerable around her and he didn't like being vulnerable around anybody. It made him feel exposed and defenseless.

Dean held his breath as Jenni flicked the IV bag that Sam was attached to before she checked the line for clots or any other reason that the flow wouldn't be going smoothly. She seemed satisfied with it after a moment and turned to check monitor readings on the machine attached to Sam.

"Jenni."

Jenni lifted an eyebrow at Dean, her lips thin as she drew them once more into her mouth. She kept one eye on Dean, a cautious eye, as she pulled the clipboard closer to her chest.

Dean felt an invisible heavy source settle on his shoulders and tried to roll it off as he swallowed around tension building in his throat and chest. "Look, about earlier…what I did…"

"Dean, don't. I was…overstepping my bounds. I'm so…"

"Don't…it wasn't you." Dean waved off her apology fiercely. He wasn't going to let her apologize for something he had done. "I was out of bounds, shouldn't have shoved you into that room."

Jenni shrugged and finished marking something on Sam's chart before flipping his file closed. "You're not the first person who's manhandled me, Dean."

Dean frowned. His eyes lifted to hers and noticed for the first time that they were slightly puffy, and a little too pink for them to be normal. He rose abruptly from his seat and made his way around the bed, he soon had her arms buried in his large hands but refused to let go when Jenni tried to pull away.

A single tear slipped from Jenni's left eye, making her mascara run in a dark smudge to her cheek. Dean brushed it away gently with his thumb before lifting her chin gently with his forefinger, forcing her to look into his eyes.

"Jenni, I didn't mean it."

"I know you didn't, Dean. It's ok, really."

"What's wrong then?"

"It's stupid. Don't worry about it." Jenni once more tried to pull from Dean's grasp but he was too quick, and far stronger than she was. He wrapped one arm around the small of her back, pulling her closer to his body, pinning her there with unyielding strength while he continued to tilt her chin up so she was looking at him.

"I'm not buying that."

"Dean, people are getting the idea that I'm involved with you two for more than medical interest."

Dean looked at her, his green eyes blazing, but unconcerned. "So?"

"So? Dean…my friend Rachael told Kim that we were more than it seemed and she told Janica who told Kory."

Dean stared blankly at her as he drew his own lips into his mouth.

"Dean, Kory has been trying to get me fired for a few months now. She was pissed that I got promoted before she did when she's been working here longer. She's positive that I was the one who ratted on her when she was seducing one of her patients, so she's trying to catch me in the same act."

Dean lifted an eyebrow, his lips quirking at the corners. "_Were_ you the one who ratted her out?"

"No, it was Yvette, but I never said anything because I didn't want this to be on anyone else's head."

"So you are taking the consequence of somebody else's actions?"

"So to speak, I suppose." Jenni chewed on her lip and looked away.

Dean frowned again, he didn't like this. He barely knew Jenni, he shouldn't feel such an overwhelming anger to bring down the person who was trying so desperately to drag her under. But he couldn't help himself, he pulled her in a little closer, his hips pressing against hers.

Jenni's gasp brought his eyes back to hers, but it wasn't pain or sadness that lingered there. It was a flame of desire, which was quickly hidden again when their eyes met. Dean smiled letting his hand run over the small of her back for a moment and lifted his eyebrows in delight when Jenni shivered under his touch.

"You look tired, Dean." Jenni said quietly lifting a hand to Dean's chest and gently pushing him away. His hand fell from her back and dangled down by his side.

"Jenni…"

"Dean, look if I get caught…I could get in a lot of trouble."

"Anyway I can help get you out of trouble?" Dean stepped forward again, his hand creeping around Jenni's back, once again pulling her to him. He grinned down at her, keeping her captive as she got lost in his deep green eyes. She returned his smile, although rather shyly and drew her bottom lip into her mouth.

Dean lifted a hand to the side of her face, curling a few of her blonde locks behind her ear. He felt her shiver again and felt a small thrill rise within him. He lifted both hands to the sides of her face and tilted her head back, exposing her soft lips to his, just waiting for him to make his move.

Dean lowered his face to hers letting his lips tease hers. He pressed against her soft lips gently, letting her choose the pace. She kissed him back although hesitantly, her lips melted to his for a brief moment before she jerked back and out of his grasp holding a hand to her lips, her eyes wide with horror.

"Dean, I can't do this."

Dean frowned, studying her. Jenni stood still, her hand still clasped to the clipboard in her hand, her eyes fiery. Then suddenly she was back in his grasp, arms wrapped around his neck, lips pressed against his, shoving him back toward the wall, away from the door in case anyone looked inside the small window.

Dean wrapped his arms around her waist, drawing her closer his hands moving up and down the back of her white jacket. Her hands lifted tugging at his short hair, pulling his head away from hers as she gasped for air.

They stood panting for a moment. Their eyes locked and focused only on each other as they tried to catch their breath.

"We can't do this here." Jenni gasped her fingers tugging at Dean's short locks.

"Right." Dean agreed pulling down on Jenni's arms, gently releasing her hold on his hair. He held onto her wrists, his thumbs caressing her soft skin. Jenni chewed on her bottom lip trying to suppress her urge to taste his mouth once more, she reluctantly pulled back and away from him, he released her wrists, letting his arms fall once more to his sides.

"You know, Sam will have to stay overnight. He can go home tomorrow afternoon. If you need a place to stay…" Jenni blushed furiously as Dean lifted an eyebrow.

"What time are you going home?"

"Depends on what your answer is."

Dean grinned at her for a moment before shifting his eyes again to his unconscious brother. Except he wasn't as unconscious as he appeared. A slight smile had turned the corners of Sam's mouth. Dean gestured to Sam with the tilt of his head causing Jenni to look and blush even deeper. Her face was now a dark scarlet, Dean rubbed her cheek with his thumb briefly before leaning over and whispering in her ear.

Jenni nodded and picked up the clipboard where she had tossed it hastily onto the bedside table. "I'll head home around six or six-thirty. Offer still stands, Dean."

Dean winked at her and watched her until she had exited the room, shutting the door behind her. He then turned to face his brother rolling his eyes as Sam tried and failed to look like he was sleeping.

"So, how much were you awake for, Sasquatch?" Dean settled back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest.

Sam opened the eye not covered by the bandage and grinned. "Long enough to want to burn my eardrums out."

"That's what I thought." Dean teased as he sat down. All of a sudden he felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders, no matter how brief, and he was ready to take advantage of that.

"You should go over there, Dean. Bet she'll make it worth your while."

"Sam, you're the one who needs help finding a date, not me."

"Yeah, well I'd say Jenni is a lot better than most of the girls you take home. Might be a nice change for you."

"Shut up, bitch."

"Jerk."

"Giant."

"Shorty."

"Freak."

"Asshole."

"Geek boy."

"Jerk."

"Already said that one, Sammy boy." Dean grinned at his scowling sibling.

"Yeah well stick around long enough and I'll come up with a new insult. Have nothing better to do."

Dean rolled his eyes.

"So you going to go?"

Dean rubbed a hand on his forehead, smoothing out the wrinkles there. "I don't know…maybe."

"Dean, seriously. I'll be fine. It's for one night, I think I can handle that."

"You're not going to do something stupid are you?"

"You mean like take off my hospital garb and go streaking down the hall in my birthday suit?"

Dean barked out a laugh at that. "Yeah something like that."

Sam smiled. He hadn't heard Dean laugh like that since…well probably not since they were back in Texas with the boys. "Don't think I'll be running anywhere for a while, Dean. Think you're safe in that department."

"Just don't want you to embarrass yourself, Sammy boy. Might make some of the younger boys jealous but anyone your age will tease ya."

Sam tried to swat his brother but missed by a foot, ending up smacking the guardrail on the side of the bed.

"Ah! Shit."

"Sam, you ok?"

"Fine." Sam rubbed at his hand for a minute before letting it fall limply back onto the bed again.

Dean glared at his brother but didn't speak.

The brothers sat in silence for a few minutes, Dean keeping his eyes on Sam while Sam rubbed at the back of his hand.

"You know if you stare any harder you might burn a hole in my head."

"Sam, you can't see. How the hell do you know if I'm looking at you?"

"Little brother's secret." Sam smirked.

Dean rubbed his chin for a moment before pushing himself to his feet. "There's a motel down the street, think I'll go get a room there."

"Dean."

"Look, Sam. I'm not going all the way back to the bungalow."

"You're right, wasting money on a new motel room…one that you probably won't stay in anyway, makes a lot more sense."

"Sam, just stop."

"Dean, you know how long it takes to get new credit cards and you can't possibly hustle enough pool to afford a room, gas, and food until we can get new ones."

"So what do you want me to do Sam? Sleep in the car? In the parking lot?"

"No! Damn it, Dean. I want you to go and get some sleep…in a bed not the car. Just go back to the bungalow."

"I already told you Sam I'm not going back there."

"What about going to Jenni's place? I mean she did offer…and it can't be that far from the hospital right?"

Dean shook his head before remembering that Sam wouldn't see the gesture. He couldn't explain why he felt obligated to stay nearby. He didn't want to deal with the reality that Sam could and possibly would hurt himself in his absence, close by or not. He had done it before, what was to stop that from happening now?

"Come on, Dean. Ten minutes ago you and Jenni were ready to get hot and dirty right here on the floor." Sam smirked as he heard Dean shift awkwardly in his seat. "What's changed?"

"Nothing, Sam. I just…wrong place, wrong time I guess."

Sam frowned at that. He had only heard Dean say that once before, back at the roadhouse, when Ash had told them he would need time to go over their father's research. He had watched Dean saunter off after the young blonde, inwardly rolling his eyes at Dean's lack of tact. He had been almost positive that he would be on his own for the next fifty-one hours while Dean busied himself with Ellen's daughter, so he had busied himself with looking at a folder that had caught his eye. After a minute or so he had realized that Dean's usual sweet talk and charm were not flowing as they usually did…in fact Dean had closed off and actually politely told Jo that it was the wrong place, wrong time. Sam had covered the awkward situation by presenting the evil clown case. But now, Sam realized, he should have paid more attention to the fact that Dean had simply dismissed the opportunity.

Dean wasn't picky, Sam had seen his choice in women, and not all of them were classy. Some were downright tramps, but if Dean had the opportunity to sweet talk, get a room, and break off with no strings attached he was always ready to have some fun. Sam tended to be a little more cautious about the women he went home with, he wasn't overly eager to come face to face with a pissed off spouse, something Dean had done on more than one occasion.

"You ok, Dean?"

"Sam, I'm ok! I'm ok all right? Stop askin' me that!"

"You could have fooled me."

"Just back off."

"You're not acting like yourself anymore, Dean."

"Why? Because I'm not willing to go to Jenni's house? To go back to the bungalow and leave you here?"

"That's exactly my point, Dean! You like Jenni."

"How the hell would you even know, Sam?"

"Dean, just because I'm blind doesn't mean I can't see that you're into her."

"Sam, you can't see anything, you're freakin' blind."

"I know I'm blind…I can't see. I'm not freakin' helpless, Dean! So stop treating me like I am!"

Dean snapped his jaw shut and glared daggers at his brother.

"I'm not going anywhere, I'm tired and hurt like hell so I don't feel like getting out of this bed anytime soon. I'm not made of glass and I'm not going to break so stop treating me like you need to package me up in bubble wrap."

"That's not what this is about, Sam."

"It isn't? Then please, Dean, explain what it _is_ about because I'm drawing on a blank here."

"When I wasn't here earlier, when you woke up, what'd you try and do Sam? You managed to slice your chin open trying to come after me. What's to stop you from trying something stupid like that again?"

"That was different!"

"How? I'm not seeing much of a difference, Sam. I wasn't even that far last time…just outside in the parking lot and you flipped. They don't sedate people who don't need it, Sam. They couldn't get you to calm down. So tell me how is it going to help you if I'm two towns over in the bungalow or God knows where at Jenni's place? I don't see how…"

"Because I didn't know if you were going to come back last time, Dean!" Sam interrupted his chest heaving as he took in large gulps of air. His face was slightly reddened his hands balled up on the light blue hospital shirt he was wearing. He closed his visible eye and breathed deeply, trying to get himself under control.

Dean felt like he had been sucker punched. He had to fight back the emotions whirling within him for a minute before he managed to ask, hating how broken his voice sounded even to himself. "When have I ever left you, Sam?"

Sam was silent for a minute before opening his eye again, his breathing having considerably slowed as he controlled his anger. "Burkitsville, Indiana."

Dean glared at Sam, his teeth grinding together for a moment. "Don't think so, Sam. You were the one who wanted to leave that night. You wanted to go to California to find Dad."

Sam chewed on his bottom lip, pulling absent-mindedly at the dry skin there. "Back at the hospital, after…after everything that happened…" Sam trailed off his lower lip shaking a bit. He ground his top teeth into it to stop the motion.

"I didn't go anywhere, Sam. I'm right here."

"Physically, maybe."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"You think I don't see it, Dean? You think you can hide this from me?" Sam's blank eye rolled in its socket until it was focused in Dean's direction. Dean could have sworn that Sam was looking right at him had it not been for the milky coating that had once more taken up residence there. Sam, however, didn't seem to be finished. "Dean, ever since Dad…you've been different."

"Shut up, Sam." Dean didn't want to do this. Not here, not now. Not after everything they'd been through in the last few days.

"I mean the vampires and Gordon…you weren't acting like yourself, Dean. You're tail spinning and scaring the crap out of me."

"Sam…"

"Killing yourself isn't going to bring Dad back Dean!"

"I said shut up, Sam!" Dean found himself on his feet, with no memory of rising from his seat. His hands were balled into fists at his sides and he was breathing heavily as if he had just finished a hard workout. He glared at his brother for another minute before turning on his heel and heading towards the door.

"Dean?"

"I need a minute, Sam." Dean's voice was cold. Sam felt a shiver trail up his back. He had only heard Dean this angry a few times. The most recent was when Dean had pulled a gun on Gordon after Gordon had held Sam hostage over a tied and poisoned vampire.

"Dean…wait."

"I'll be back later. Get some sleep." Dean yanked open the door and quickly shut out Sam's protests and apologies by pulling the door closed behind him.


	27. Chapter 27

A/N: Hey guys – I know I said that I would update during the weekend and this is technically Monday where I live. But since my weekend feels more like Sunday/Monday since those are my days off it still feels like the weekend to me. I will try to post again later this week – and I will reply individually to those of you who have taken the time to review. I'm sorry that I don't have the time to do that right now – it has been a lot busier than I thought it would be this weekend and I haven't had the time or energy to post. I hope that these next few chapters will last until I can get back to my computer. Thanks again to those who have left reviews and I'll be back again later this week.

Chapter 27

Dean leaned against the wall next to Sam's room for a minute, struggling to get his raging emotions under control. His heart was pounding furiously in his chest, the heavy blood flow was making his head spin.

Dean closed his eyes and focused on his breathing, his mind buzzing with the words Sam had practically growled at him. His arms wrapped protectively around his stomach, his hands clenched in fists.

"Dean, you ok?"

Dean opened his eyes to see Jenni stepping out of a room down the hall. She looked a little frazzled, but she quickly pushed that aside as she strolled down to close the distance between them.

"Yeah, I'm ok." Dean pushed himself away from the wall and gave Jenni a half smile. He let his eyes roll over her face studying the stress lines that made her eyes crinkle and her forehead fold into several lines. "What's wrong?"

"Shh." Jenni hushed her head jerking over her shoulder briefly as another door opened.

Dean looked up at the sound of more clicking heels against the linoleum floor. A short petite blonde was making her way down the hall. Dean studied her as she walked towards them, disliking her more and more with each step she took. He felt Jenni stiffen beside him, shot her a glance from the corner of his eyes and ground his jaw when he saw her tight expression.

He turned his gaze again to the approaching nurse, realizing that she could be nice looking if it weren't for the ten pounds of mascara that clung to her short lashes or the way her lips were puckered up as if she were sucking on a lemon. Her blonde curly locks were plastered to her head, as if she had dumped a whole bottle of hairpsray on it. Her jade eyes were hidden beneath half closed lids but Dean had no doubt that she was looking at them.

She slowed as she approached the two of them, her upper lip pulling back in an unpleasant manner. She stopped altogether when she was within a couple feet.

"Mr. Evans I presume?"

Dean met her glare head on, nodded once in greeting but didn't speak.

"Jenni, why am I not surprised to see you here?" The nurse smirked at Jenni her voice extremely hard.

Dean narrowed his eyebrows, his eyes shrinking to slits as he studied the woman before him. He suddenly had the feeling that this was…

"Kory…"

Dean's beliefs were confirmed with that single word. He felt his guts tighten as Jenni stepped away from him.

"What do you want here?"

Kory didn't answer right away. Her eyes strayed to Dean, roaming up and down his front as her tongue poked between her teeth and teased her plump lips slowly. Dean couldn't help but feel like she was staring at him as if he were a hunk of meat, just ready for the taking.

She finally looked away from him and turned to face Jenni again. "I can see now why you're so into him, Jenni. He should be good for a lay or two. Of course you'd loose your job over it, but hey…at least you had a good time." She turned her confident smile back on Dean. "If you ever get tired of playing with little girls, sugar, just give me a call. I'll make it worth your while."

"Sorry I prefer to stay away from frigid bitches. Besides…" Dean shifted his arm around Jenni's waist and drew her to his side, ignoring the alarmed look she shot in his direction. "You really think I'm going to cheat on my girl?"

Kory raised a fine eyebrow at the two of them, the puckered look once again twisting up her face. "Your girl?"

"That's right."

Kory crossed her arms over her chest, her lips pulling up in a sneer. "So how come I haven't heard of you before?"

"Why would it be any of your business?" Jenni snapped, she snuggled deeper into Dean's side, wrapping her arm around Dean's waist, her fingers digging into his shirt.

Kory glared at the two of them. "Why keep it a secret? Forgive me for not buying this, but you've never so much as indicated that you were with somebody. But all of a sudden these two show up and you're suddenly with someone?"

Kory tapped her chin and circled around the two of them slowly, as a predator would its intended prey. Dean tightened his grip on Jenni's waist as he watched Kory's progress. Kory finished circling them and once again stood in front of them, her smile confident.

"If you two are really _'together'_…" She glared directly into Dean's eyes as she spoke. "Than where have you been lately?"

"Why the hell does that matter? I'm here now."

"Right, how convenient of you to be here when your brother shows up with mysterious injuries…making him blind. Good thing you were in town when that happened. Otherwise, Jenni wouldn't have been there to help out."

Jenni loosened her grip on Dean and started to pull away, but Dean held fast. She looked up at Dean to see a muscle in his jaw jump as he ground his teeth together tightly.

"Where were you when Jenni needed you the most?" Kory snapped taking a step forward. She was so close now that Dean could smell the gallons of perfume she must have coated on herself. That mixed with the semi sweet smell of fruit from the breath escaping her lips. He wrinkled his nose in disgust.

"His brother had called, said he needed him, so Dean left to help." Jenni said in between clenched teeth.

"And he didn't ask you to go with him?" Kory asked sarcastically. "Maybe if he had you wouldn't have needed that abortion."

Dean felt Jenni jerk at his side as if she had been slapped.

"Shut up, Kory. That's none of your damn business."

"What?" Kory gestured to Dean with one hand but didn't tear her gaze away from Jenni. "If he really cared that much for you, do you think he would have left you here unprotected?"

Dean shot a glance down at Jenni, not missing the two tears that streaked from her eyes and ran down her cheeks. He returned his gaze to Kory, feeling an unexplainable hate creeping up inside him when he saw the joy she was actually extracting from Jenni's pain. She was feeding on it, just like a demon would.

"Ah…so she hasn't told you." Kory had picked up on Dean's surprised look before he had been able to mask it again. She turned back to Jenni. "I can see you two are real close, too bad you can't trust him to your little secrets, Jen. I'm sure Mr. Andrews will be interested to learn of your little relationship."

Kory smirked once more and strolled away. Dean glared after her until she turned down the next hall. Jenni shifted against him, pulling out of his grasp and wiping hastily at her eyes, trying to stop the tears that would not be diverted.

"Jenni, Jenni…hey…hey, come on." Dean grabbed a hold of Jenni's arm and tilted her chin up with one finger again, looking into her broken face as she tried desperately to stop the tears that were continuously flowing.

"I'm sorry, Dean." Jenni whispered her voice trembling violently as more tears slipped down her cheeks; her mascara ran in long black streaks as her tears made their trails on her rosy skin.

"Hey, you don't need to be sorry. Jenni…" Dean locked his gaze on hers but it only held for a minute because Jenni looked away.

"I want to go home." Jenni pulled from Dean's grasp and wrapped her arms around herself, rubbing at her arms as if she were cold.

"Sure, ok."

Jenni looked up at him briefly as more tears filled her soft eyes. "Do you think you can take me? Don't think I can drive right now."

"Yeah, no problem Jenni."

"I'm just going to go grab my stuff and tell Yvette that I'm checking out of here early. I'll meet you in the lobby in five minutes."

Dean nodded and watched Jenni as she walked away, her hands lifting to rub at her eyes as she turned the corner. He let out a soft sigh and turned once more to the room containing his brother. He pushed the door open and eased it closed behind him.

"Dean?"

"Sam, I'm going to go take Jenni home."

"Dean…"

"Yeah?"

"Take your time. She could really use some company right now."

Dean smirked. "Should've known you'd be listening."

"Can't be helped." Sam tapped the side of his head. "Hearing is really sensitive."

"So I see." Dean nodded.

"So who's the bitch?"

"Someone who needs a hairstylist and a shower."

Sam cracked a grin. "Dean…"

"Seriously Sam. You'd have thought the same thing…reminds me of a toad. All she needed was a black bow and it would have completed her image."

"Real smooth, Dean."

Dean smiled for a moment before licking his dry lips and shifting slightly, his hand slipping into his jacket pocket to toy with his keys. "Hey, Sam…about what I said…"

"Dean…" Sam let out a small satisfied breath. "Me too."

"I'll be back later."

"Sure, I'll be here."

"Better be. No stupid stunts this time, Sam." Dean teased.

"Yeah, yeah. So don't do something you wouldn't do."

"How about you don't do something that I would do instead."

Sam shook his head and closed his eye, leaning heavily against his pillow. "Jerk."

"Bitch." Dean walked to the bed and grabbed Sam's arm, twisting it until Sam's palm was facing up. He placed his cell in Sam's hand and closed Sam's fingers around it.

"Dean?"

"You don't have your phone, Sam. We'll need to get you a new one. Jenni's speed dial is eight. Call if you need anything."

Sam slipped his hand under the light blue hospital sheets. "Ok."

Dean walked back to the door, twisted the knob and started to open the door when he paused. He looked back over his shoulder to stare at his brother. Sam had his head turned toward the hand that was still holding Dean's cell. "Hey, Sam."

"Hmm?"

"If a nurse Kory comes in…give her hell for me."

Sam chuckled as Dean left the room.

***  
Jenni was in the waiting room when Dean got there. She was sitting in a chair right next to the nurses' station. A girl with dark hair was stooped next to her, one hand on her knee while the other gripped her shoulder. They were talking in whispers so soft that it would only be audible to the two of them. Even from across the room Dean could see the tremble of Jenni's shoulders as she tried to suppress her sobs.

He made his way slowly to them, not wanting to interrupt. Jenni, however, seemed to feel eyes on them and lifted her gaze to Dean and pushed herself to her feet. Her friend wrapped her arms around her upper arms and gently gave her a small squeeze before turning and nodding at Dean gratefully. Dean took that as his cue to take over and stepped next to Jenni, his arm snaking around her waist.

"I'll tell Mr. Andrews, sweetie. Don't worry about it."

"Thanks, Yvette."

Dean offered the short dark haired woman a casual smile as she mouthed a silent thank you in his direction. He steered Jenni away from the nurses' station and to the hospital entrance doors. Jenni allowed him to take the lead, not offering any resistance as he directed her to the waiting impala.

He pulled open the passenger door for her, helped her to settle in the seat before shutting the door and walking around to the driver's side and settling in behind the wheel.

Jenni stared blankly at the windshield, her eyes not really taking in anything. It was a look that Dean had seen on Sam a lot lately, and he felt his stomach jerk at the thought of leaving his brother here alone all night. Permitted or not, he felt like he was shirking his older brother duties by leaving Sam here. Still, Jenni needed to get out, and was in no condition to drive herself. Even now tears were continuing to fall from her red puffy eyes. Dean figured if Jenni calmed down a bit later he could return to check on his brother, or even call and see how Sam was doing.

Dean turned the key, making the impala come to life with a low rumbling growl. He pulled the gear into reverse and placed his right arm over the back of the bench before pulling out of his parking spot. Jenni sniffed loudly and rubbed at her nose with a finger.

Dean quietly pulled a somewhat clean handkerchief from his pocket, and offered it to Jenni. She gave him a trembling smile as she accepted the gesture and dabbed the soft cloth against her eyes.

"God, what you must think of me." Jenni said as Dean reached the edge of the parking lot.

"Right or left?"

"Left, make a right at the streetlight and head east."

Dean did as he was told, tapping his fingers gently against the steering wheel. "I don't think any less of you, if that's what you mean." He finally said when the silence became too heavy for him to deal with.

Jenni sniffed again and shook her head, dabbing at the fresh tears as they started to spill over. "I shouldn't let her get to me."

Dean shot her a side glance before turning his eyes back on the road. "She was going for cheap shots."

"It's nothing that she hasn't said before though." Jenni insisted crumpling Dean's hanky in her fists.

"It's something she shouldn't be saying at all." Dean ground out purposefully keeping his eyes straight ahead.

"She never did have respect for my personal life, Dean. Why should that start now?"

"How the hell did she even know about the abortion?"

"Because she was the one who tended to me after Dr. Landon did the procedure."

"Bitch." Dean's voice was low and cold, his fingers tightened ever so slightly around the wheel.

"There were complications…I hemorrhaged…lost a lot of blood. Took me a couple weeks to recover." Jenni said softly, as though she was merely speaking her thoughts instead of trying to carry on an actual conversation. She dabbed the crinkled hanky to her nose and turned to face Dean again, ignoring the tears that were making her vision blurry again. "You know I almost kept the baby?"

Dean lifted an eyebrow and glanced at her, his lips drawn tight.

"I was so close to just saying screw the whole abortion…wasn't the baby's fault it was there."

Dean twisted to look at her, his face screwed up in disbelief. "You think it was your fault?"

Jenni shrugged. "If I'd played my cards differently I wouldn't have ended up in that situation to begin with."

Dean didn't like the sound of this. Although Jenni hadn't come right out to say it, he had no doubt in his mind what had happened. It made his blood boil that someone out there would be so soulless as to take someone as sweet as Jenni and ruin her life in a selfish act. John had always drilled respect into his boys' minds. Women were not mindless machines to be taken advantage of, but were to be treated like actual human beings.

Even though Dean did enjoy having his fun he'd never forced himself on someone. As far as he was concerned people like that were no better than the creatures that he and Sam hunted. Even now he could see the lingering wounds that this had left on Jenni, the fact that Kory had just ripped the barely scabbed wounds wide open again hadn't helped matters any.

"How do you figure?"

Jenni looked over at Dean, her eyebrows high on her forehead. "What do you mean?"

"How do you think you could have avoided it? What did you do to make it your fault?"

"I should've known he was bad news…he got me to drink a few beers with him. He put ecstasy in my last one…it really loosened me up and he took me back to his place. I wasn't feeling that good and wanted to lie down so he took me to the bedroom…I should have called a cab."

"Did you know him?"

Jenni scoffed and shook her head, looking out the passenger window to the sun as it sank lower in the sky. "Yeah, I know him. Used to be head of the football team in high school. Real big shot."

"Did he know?"

Jenni dabbed at her eyes angrily before turning to Dean her face drawn in distress. "Know what? That he got me pregnant? Course not. He took off the next day…found out about a month ago that he got married to Janice Cooper…two days after I had run into him."

"That son of a bitch."

"Guess it was his last joy ride of being a bachelor huh?"

Dean's lip twitched. "No it was his last joy ride of being a jackass."

Jenni shrugged. "Well, either way…I doubt it makes much of a difference now. I found out I was pregnant a couple months later…talked to Yvette and Rachael…they both told me to get an abortion. I didn't want to at first, like I said it wasn't the baby's fault that it was here. I spent a lot of time with my aunt trying to decide what to do and finally gave in…you know the rest."

"Which way?"

"Turn right on the next street. My house is the third on the left."

Dean pressed the gas a little harder making the classic shoot forward with a deep growl. It only took a minute for them to reach their destination and he was soon pulling into the drive of a two story house. He shifted the gear into park and let the engine idle for a minute before turning the key and letting the impala die down completely.

Jenni didn't wait for Dean to come around to her side of the car, but pushed open the door with her shoulder and shut it firmly behind her. Dean got out as well, hesitant on whether she wanted him to stay or not.

Jenni opened up screen door and pushed her key into the lock, having to jiggle the lock a bit before it clicked and the door opened. She stepped inside the warm room and turned back to look at Dean. "Would you like to stay?"

"If you want me to."

"Please."

Dean nodded and stepped around to the trunk and popped it open. He kept his actions hidden from Jenni as he opened the false bottom and retrieved his .45, shoving it into his waistband. He then closed the trunk and headed up the two stairs to the door, following Jenni inside.

The room was dark, but pleasantly warm. Jenni flipped on the lamps as she made her way across the living room. Dean's gaze wandered around the many wall hangings she had put up…all different sizes and none were the exact same theme. Some were of animals while others were what looked like classic cars. He walked slowly up to one of the hangings that looked like Jenni's '65 Mustang. His eyes widened when he saw that the picture was made of small little crosses.

"Cross stitch is kind of a hobby." Jenni confessed as she walked to the kitchen. "You want some coffee?"

Dean nodded. "Yeah that'd be great." He tore his gaze reluctantly away from the wall hanging and followed Jenni into the kitchen. "It's quite a talent you have for that."

Jenni blushed. "Thanks." She busied herself by putting coffee grinds in the filter and starting the coffee maker. Dean leaned against the counter, silent watching as Jenni started pulling items from the refrigerator.

"You want a sandwich?"

Dean's stomach growling answered her question. She smiled as Dean grinned.

"Ham, roast beef, or grilled cheese?"

"Whatever you're having is fine."

Jenni placed the ham and cheese back in the fridge and pulled out a lettuce head as well as a can of mayonnaise. "You want your bread toasted?"

"Sure."

Jenni tossed two slices of bread into the toaster and pulled two mugs from the cabinet, filling them with the freshly brewed coffee, sipping at her own cup as she handed the other to Dean. He wrapped his long fingers around the cup and slowly sipped the hot brew. His eyes widened in surprise as he pulled the coffee away, he stared at the inky mixture for a minute before lifting his gaze to Jenni's. She simply smirked as she sipped her own cup.

"This has got to be the best damn coffee I've had in a long time." Dean took another sip and nodded toward the coffee maker. "What'd you put in this?"

"My secret." Jenni teased placing her mug on the counter as the two pieces of toast popped out of the toaster. She placed them aside and put two more slices in the toaster. She grabbed a couple plates from another cupboard and placed the toast on one of them. "Do me a favor and grab me a knife will you?"

"Where are they?" Dean set his cup down on the cupboard as well. He walked to the drawer she pointed at and retrieved a butter knife for her.

Jenni smiled as he handed her the utensil and opened the mayonnaise jar, scooped up a fair amount and spread it over the two slices of toast. Dean helped out by rinsing the lettuce head in the sink while Jenni pulled a few slices of roast beef out of its plastic packaging.

"Want anything else on yours?" Jenni asked as she pulled a few leaves of lettuce from the freshly rinsed head.

"No, that's good thanks."

Jenni handed Dean the plate, just as the last two pieces of toast popped out of the toaster. She repeated the process with her own sandwich and joined Dean at the table.

Dean took a large bite of his sandwich, closing his eyes briefly as he savored the flavor. He hadn't realized how hungry he was until Jenni had offered him something. He had been so worried about Sam he hadn't even thought of food. His stomach was protesting loudly now, urgently reminding him that he hadn't eaten since the night before.

Jenni watched as Dean devoured his sandwich in a matter of seconds. She smiled bemused as Dean then drained his coffee and stood to refill it.

"If you're still hungry you can help yourself to another." Jenni offered.

Dean shook his head as he sipped at his second cup of coffee. "Um hmm, I'm good thanks."

Jenni finished her own sandwich quickly and did a quick clean up of her kitchen. Dean was on his fourth cup of coffee now and staring out the big bay window into the backyard, looking at something only he could see, his gaze unfocused.

"I'm going to go change into something more comfortable."

Dean turned and looked at her. "Ok." He turned back to stare outside as Jenni slipped out of the kitchen. He watched as the sun disappeared over the horizon and the sky turned to a navy blue, with a few tiny stars making their appearance.

A cat snaked its way across the top of the picket fence, its tail erect as it worked its way across the yard before landing with catlike grace and began to sniff around in Jenni's small flower garden. Dean sighed and set his coffee mug on the counter, rubbing a hand over his weary eyes. His mind trailed back to Sam alone in the hospital, he felt a slight lurch in his stomach at the thought. Still, Sam had told him to take his time, told him that Jenni needed him here right now, and after the conversation in the car with her he was sure Sam was right.

"Dean? You ok?"

Dean turned from the window to see Jenni standing in the doorway, dressed in sweatpants and an extra large t-shirt. Her hair was pulled back in a low ponytail and the mascara had been washed away from her rosy cheeks.

"You look…nice."

Jenni rolled her eyes. "Dean, I like being comfortable when I don't have to work. Deal with it."

"No, I mean it." Dean looked her up and down surprised that he actually found the look attractive for Jenni. Most girls it could have been a big turn off, but Jenni made it work.

"Thanks, I guess." She chewed on her bottom lip as she shifted from foot to foot. "So, um, what do you want to do?"

Dean stared blankly ahead of himself, studying the paint on the wall.

"Want to watch a movie? Or…I have a pool table…if you can play…?"

Dean's eyes brightened at the word pool table. "Can I play? Oh sweet heart, you've got no idea who you're up against."

"You're that good, huh?"

"Damn straight."

"Hmm…guess you've never stepped into my territory. I'm the best in this area buster."

"Would you like to put a wager on that?"

"Bet you three hundred bucks and two weeks of sex that you can't beat me."

"Now that is an offer I can't turn down."

"All right, smart ass." Jenni walked to the fridge and pulled out a couple of Coors bottles, she handed one to Dean and led the way down the stairs to her pool hall, Dean right on her heels.

***  
"Eight ball, corner pocket." Jenni boasted as she sunk her last stripped ball into one of the pockets in the middle.

Dean watched her with sharp eyes as Jenni lined up the shot and sunk it. He groaned and reached for his back pocket and wallet. It was the fifth game in a row they had played and Jenni had won three of them. They were evenly matched when it came to skill, and Jenni was a damn good bluffer. She'd be halfway decent when it came to hustling pool at bars. She'd be a hell of a lot better than Sam was on his best day.

"Hmm…as much as I'd enjoy your money I think I'll pass on it." Jenni said calmly as she placed her cue on the table.

Dean lifted an eyebrow as he too set down his cue. "Well a bet's a bet…so what do I owe you?"

"I'm sure we can work out something." Jenni smirked as she edged around the table to where Dean was standing.

Dean smiled and stepped forward to meet Jenni. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close to him, enjoying the way her hips melted against his. Jenni's arms wrapped around Dean's back, her fingers trailing along his spine. He felt a slight tingle as she reached the bottom of his neck and played with the short hairs there.

Jenni chewed on her lip as she locked eyes with him, gasping as Dean's warm hands slipped under her shirt, pressing against the warm skin underneath it. She reached up, her eyes pleading with his, he smiled and leaned down, meeting her halfway. Their lips locked, pressing gently at first, teasing, testing the waters. They were soon melting together, growing more passionate and more eager as the seconds passed.

Jenni pulled back, panting a bit, her eyes roamed over Dean's face. They narrowed a bit as she noticed a faint scar on his forehead for the first time. It started at the tip of his hairline and curved down toward his nose. She lifted a hand to touch it, gently tracing the line with her fingers. Dean closed his eyes and allowed her touch. Her fingers explored down his face, gently caressing the skin under his eyes and finally his lips once more. She kissed him gently, pulling his lip into her mouth, teasing him. Dean kissed her back, not bothering to open his eyes. He pulled away after a moment and leaned closer, burying his face into her neck, breathing in the soft scent of mangos and coconut.

"Hmm…Dean, let's go upstairs."

Dean moaned as Jenni's fingers dug into his neck. He opened his eyes and nodded once. "Ok."

Jenni gently eased herself away from Dean's embrace, but held onto his hand. Dean followed her back up the stairs, through the kitchen, and down the hall to the bedroom. Jenni kicked the door shut behind them and turned to Dean, a sudden hungry look in her eye that was somewhat startling. Dean felt himself backing up until his legs hit the foot of the bed. Jenni stepped forward and forced him all the way down on his back by roughly shoving back on his shoulders.

Before Dean could react Jenni was on top of him, kissing him once again, her kisses growing more passionate and he felt himself responding to her in all the right ways. He found himself tugging at her shirt; she helped him pull it off before starting on his.

Dean whipped off his shirt and tossed it over the side of the bed, his arms wrapped around Jenni pulling her closer to him, making her body melt to his. Jenni panted as she pulled away from Dean's mouth she smiled as she looked down at him. Dean settled himself as comfortably as he could against the pillows and soft mattress. From the looks of things this was going to be fun, and God knew he could use some fun after all the crap he had been through. Jenni smiled as she reached for his belt buckle.

"Get ready for the ride of your life, Dean Evans."

"Oh sweetheart, I was born ready."

"Good." Jenni whipped Dean's belt through the loops and reached for the clasp on his jeans, making short work of it. "Otherwise you'd be in big trouble right now."

"Think I was in trouble a while ago, but hey if you're going to hell anyway might as well enjoy the ride."

"Exactly." Jenni once again melted into Dean, pulling the comforter over both of them.


	28. Chapter 28

Chapter 28

Dark clouds hung low over the trees, a lone bird sang its predawn song and skittered around the bare branches of the tree it was roosting in. The sound of thunder rumbled in the distance, promising heavy showers later on in the day. The sun slowly began to rise, its bright rays barely piercing through the clouds and hitting the steamy window.

Jenni squinted as the sun's beams hit her in the face. She moaned and turned over, her face meeting something soft and warm. She opened her eyes slowly and looked up to see Dean, still sleeping peacefully next to her. He had one arm wrapped around her back, keeping her close to him; the other was draped across his stomach.

Jenni stared at him in wonder, memorizing the youthfulness of Dean's features as he slept. Gone were the worries of Sam's injuries and keeping Sam safe. Gone were the burdens he bore without complaint. He looked so much younger and peaceful. The constant lines that usually adorned his forehead had smoothed out and his soulful green eyes were hidden under closed lids.

Jenni stared at him, loosing all track of time and space. Dean was the only thing that mattered at the moment. The purple shadows hidden under his eyelashes had faded as his body quenched the rest it had needed. His full lips were slightly parted and his breathing was deep and regulated.

Jenni's eyes strayed to Dean's exposed chest, and the many battle scars that lingered there. Her eyes narrowed as she spotted a few fairly new scars that traced all the way across Dean's chest. Pulling the bed sheet up to her own chest she sat up and traced her fingers down the rough pink scars, chewing on her lip as she did so.

She soon found herself tracing all his scars; some barely visible and hidden in his tan skin, while others were white and stood out quite clearly. They were Dean's story, a story of a rough life, one that Dean so carefully hid from other people.

Jenni was tracing another scar on Dean's abdomen when she felt like she was being watched. She lifted her eyes to Dean's face to see him silently watching her. She felt herself smiling without really having to think about it and was rewarded with a smile in return.

"Morning."

"Morning."

"How'd you sleep?"

Dean eyed her for a moment the early morning sunlight making the green of his eyes dance a bit. "Not bad. You?"

"Same." Jenni lowered her body next to his, leaning against his firm muscular form. She lifted her head so it was resting on his shoulder and once again began to trace the scars on his upper chest.

Dean lifted his arm and wrapped it around her shoulder, tugging the sheet a little higher around her body. He rubbed her arm up and down in a soothing manner as he shifted his gaze to the ceiling.

"You have a rough job?" Jenni asked after a few minutes of peaceful silence.

Dean shifted his eyes so he could see the top of her head. "You could say that."

"Construction worker?" Jenni tilted her head back so she could see Dean's eyes.

Dean laughed. "No, it's a little more complex than that."

"Oh." Jenni looked back to Dean's tanned chest her chilled fingers making goose bumps appear on Dean's flesh.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, Jenni continuing to trace lines on Dean's chest while Dean blinked heavily at the ceiling.

"You know," Jenni finally broke the silence as her finger finished tracing one of the newer scars for the hundredth time. She pushed herself out of Dean's embrace and stared at him, her eyes penetrating his. "I've just realized that I slept with a guy I know nothing about."

Dean lifted an eyebrow at her, his lips pulling into a tight line. "Does that bother you?"

Jenni thought about it a minute her teeth worrying her lower lip. "Not really." She finally admitted as she tried to make herself more comfortable on her elbows.

"Yeah, ok…" Dean said softly letting his eyes close as his hand strayed to Jenni's bare back. He rubbed the warm flesh slowly. "So, what did you want to know?"

Jenni could see Dean's muscles tensing in anticipation, his jaw clenching as he waited for the first question that would invade his privacy. She let her elbows give out and rested her head on Dean's upper arm, smiling as he looked down at her, his eyes not hiding the surprise he was feeling.

"You know, Dean. I think the things I would want to know about you…I already do."

"What do you mean?"

Jenni looked up at him, her lips curving in a thin smile. "I'd want to know if you were trustworthy and if you'd treat me right. I think I have the answers to those questions all ready."

Dean sighed and closed his eyes again, his tongue moistening his dry lips. "I'm not good for you, Jenni."

Jenni pushed herself up on one elbow and leaned over Dean, gently pressing her lips to his. She pulled back again a moment later and stared into his knowledgeable eyes. "Who said I wanted you to be?"

Dean smiled and rolled her on top of him, pinning her to his chest by pressing his hands on her lower back.

"Did you know you get crinkle lines by your eyes when you smile?" Jenni asked rubbing her thumbs at the corners of Dean's eyes.

"Yeah, well your chin trembles when you laugh."

"It does?" Jenni lifted a hand to hold her chin, as if she could see it trembling for herself.

Dean released his hold on her back and lifted a hand to her chin, steadying it in his grasp. "Yeah, it does." He pulled Jenni closer, pressing his lips gently to hers, letting his tongue tease her a bit before he pulled back.

"I have to be to work in an hour." Jenni sighed as she allowed her body to relax against his, tucking her head under his chin. His hand stroked at her soft blonde hair absent-mindedly while his other arm tightened its hold on Jenni's lower back, keeping her pinned to him. Jenni's arms slipped under Dean's and curved back over his shoulders in a tight embrace. "Maybe you're right, Dean. Maybe you aren't any good for me."

"Why's that?" Dean asked gently tucking a loose strand of blonde hair behind Jenni's ear as she looked up at him.

"Because for the first time in a long time, I want to stay right here in bed."

Dean grinned and lifted his eyebrows. "Oh really?"

"Yeah, really." Jenni whispered burying her face into his neck.

Dean held still for a moment, his eyes closing as Jenni's warm flesh pressed against his. "Jenni," Dean waited until Jenni lifted her head to look at him and gently kissed her forehead. "We need to get up."

"Dean, what's wrong?" Jenni's eyes darted back and forth between Dean's.

"Nothing, but if neither of us show up…well…"

"Point taken." Jenni agreed she grabbed the top comforter and pulled it close to her body as she pushed herself into a sitting position. Dean watched her as she rose from the bed and walked into the adjoining bathroom, closing the door behind her.

"If you're hungry, Dean, feel free to grab anything from the kitchen." Jenni yelled over the water as she turned on the shower.

Dean slowly pushed himself to a sitting position, shifting his legs over the edge of the bed. He slipped into his boxers and jeans but didn't bother with his shirt for now. Coffee was calling to him. He left the bedroom, leaving the door open just a crack and padded down the hall.

He had to search several cabinets before he found where Jenni kept the coffee. He poured a fair amount into a filter and started the hot water. He then popped a few pieces of bread into the toaster. He wasn't even that hungry, he was more anxious to get back to the hospital to check on his brother.

The coffee maker sizzled as the hot water made its way through the coffee grinds and started to fill the pot. Dean pulled a couple mugs from the cupboard he had seen Jenni pull them from the night before.

"Dean," Dean turned surprised as Jenni entered the kitchen, clad in a robe and her hair wrapped up in a towel. "How much coffee did you put in the filter?" Jenni continued walking over to the coffee maker and staring at the dark thick mixture that was pouring into her coffee pot.

"That was fast." Dean said handing Jenni an empty mug as the toast popped out of the toaster.

Jenni pulled the full coffee pot from the warm burner and dumped the clumpy contents down the sink. "I don't like taking long showers, Dean." She turned on the tap and rinsed out the remnants of what Dean had called coffee before dumping that too down the sink. She placed the pot back on the burner and dumped out the now soiled filter, replaced it with a new one, and placed a third amount of coffee grinds than Dean had. She once again started the hot water and leaned against the cupboard, her legs crossing at the ankles.

"Don't like your coffee strong, huh?" Dean asked mimicking Jenni's position against the cupboard on the other side of the room.

"Strong, yes. Deadly, no." Jenni teased.

"Hey, I'm still alive."

"Hmm…well I think you've also got a very strong stomach."

"Maybe." Dean bit into the dry piece of toast and gestured to the other sitting on the counter.

Jenni nodded her thanks and picked it up, but didn't eat it. Instead she began to tear away bits of the crust, letting the crumbs fall to the floor.

"What's wrong?"

Jenni sighed and finally took a small bite of her toast, chewing slowly. "She's going to know that we did something, Dean."

"Who? Kory?"

Jenni nodded and turned away, looking at the coffee pot as it filled with the hot liquid.

"Isn't there something you can do about her? Something you can report on her? What about patient confidentiality? I mean she wasn't exactly subtle last night, even if I was your boyfriend…isn't there a rule against blabbing stuff like that?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"Jenni, you need to say something."

"What good would it do in the long run, Dean? I get Mr. Anderson to talk to her…write her up, maybe…and she makes my life a living hell. Worse than she already is."

"There has to be something more he can do."

"Doesn't matter, Dean." Jenni lifted the pot full of hot coffee and poured it into her mug before holding the pot out to Dean, who held his mug for her. She filled his to the brim and set the coffee back on the burner.

"Yeah, it does."

Jenni sipped silently at her coffee. She finished half of it before setting the mug on the counter and tossing the remains of her toast into the trash. "Shower's free if you want it." She left the kitchen, not bothering to take her coffee with her.

Dean placed his own coffee down on the counter with a heavy thump and hurried after her, catching her in the hall and turning her to him. "Jenni, look at me!"

"Let me go!"

Jenni pushed against Dean's hold, fighting to release his grasp from her upper arms. Dean clamped his fingers tighter on her, refusing to let go despite her efforts.

"No! Now listen to me."

"You don't know anything! You don't know what you want me to do!" Jenni started to pound against Dean's bare chest with her fists, but the blows were weak and Dean did little more than blink at the blows. "I can't…" The blows softened until Jenni's fists unfolded and her fingers clawed a loose grip in Dean's smooth skin. "I can't…"

Tears slipped from Jenni's eyes, running down her cheeks and dripping off her chin only to splash against Dean's arms. Dean pulled her to him, wrapping her in his strong arms as her body shook with violent sobs.

"Jenni, come on, shh…"

Jenni pulled away from Dean and wiped at her eyes. "I'm sorry, Dean. I didn't mean to…"

"I know."

"I need to go get ready or I'm going to be late for work." Jenni hurried away from Dean and this time he let her.

***  
Sam was bored, really bored. He'd gladly put up with some of Dean's teasing banter right now in exchange for the boredom. Although, he was almost positive that Dean had kept Jenni occupied the night before, so he wasn't expecting him for a while.

For his part his night had been long, but far from dull. After sleeping most of the day he had been anything but tired, so he had been wide awake when someone in heels had entered his room.

He had guessed it was late because the hospital had sounded quiet. But still being in his current situation he was never sure of anything anymore. The person in heels had taken her time walking to his bed; her breathing rather heavy and her perfume had quickly saturated the room, making Sam cough against the nauseating smell.

Sam had no doubt that this was the girl Dean had told him to give hell to. He was positive when she had spoken, her voice dripping with a sweetness that had made his hair stand on edge. She rubbed him wrong in every possible way.

He had made good on his promise to Dean, however, and she had left shortly after she had entered. Sam figured that she probably hadn't appreciated the wise cracks and the snide remarks he had tossed her way. Either way he had been on his own almost the remainder of the night. It was during that time that Sam had really missed his brother.

He had been tempted to call Dean a couple times, just to hear the soft tone of his brother's voice. But he had resisted, knowing that Jenni needed his brother more than he did right now, he knew Dean would be the one to get through to her.

Outside his door the activities of the hospital increased as more staff hurried about their rounds. Sam could feel the warmth of the sun against his exposed arms. He opened his uncovered useless eye and blinked slowly, his fingers trailing over the hidden phone beneath his sheets.

The door to Sam's room opened, Sam's head automatically turned in the direction of the noise.

"Mr. Evans, I'm Dr. Runes." The doctor shut the door behind him and stepped further into the room. His walk was slow and confident; Sam could almost sense the pigheadedness coming off the guy. "I'd like to talk to you for a minute about you and your brother, Mr. Evans…or should I say Mr. Winchester?"

Dean and Jenni were halfway to the hospital when Jenni's phone rang, making them both look at it in surprise. Jenni lifted an eyebrow to Dean and dug her phone out of her purse, pursing her lips when she saw Dean's cell on the screen.

"Is there a reason your phone is calling mine?"

"It's Sam." Dean held a hand out for the phone. Jenni handed it over and he flipped open the case. "Sammy?"

_"Dean," _

"Sam, we're on our way back now. What couldn't wait another ten minutes?"

_"Dean, don't come here. They know, we slipped up and they know who we are."_

"What the hell are you talking about?" Dean's grip tightened on the phone and he saw Jenni tense in the seat next to him.

_"Dr. Runes looked into us…apparently found two different ID's in your wallet. Different names."_

"Son of a bitch."

"Dean, what's wrong?"

Dean ignored her. "I'm getting you out of there."

_"Dean, no. There are cops everywhere now. They are waiting for you to show." _

"Well what about you, Sam? I'm not just leaving you there."  
_  
__"Dean they can't hold me." _

"No, I don't like it. I'm getting you out now."

"Dean! What's going on?"

Dean shot Jenni a glare and pressed harder against the gas, shooting through an intersection before making a sharp turn and reaching the edge of the hospital parking lot. He pulled up along the curve and killed the engine.

"Sam, are you alone right now?"

_"For the minute, yeah." _

"We're coming to get you, just hold tight." Dean shut the casing before Sam could voice another protest. Dean killed the engine and turned his attention back to a white faced Jenni. "Jenni, I need to get Sam out of there."

"Dean, Sam's still on antibiotics and painkillers, he's not ready to be checked out."

"I don't have a choice. I need to get him out of here. Now."

"Dean, what's going on? What's this about?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"Try me." Jenni crossed her arms stubbornly over her chest and glared at him.

"I don't have time for this. I need to get Sam out right now! Now tell me how can I get him out of there without being spotted?"

"If you want my help in this you sure as hell better give me a reason as to why I'm smuggling one of my patients out when he is in no condition to leave."

"Jenni, I'll tell you later."

Jenni glared at him, her eyes studying his for a minute. "What do you want me to do?"

"Is there any way you can get Sam out without being noticed?"

"No. The staff are spreading rumors that we are connected by more than medical interests, Dean. They are bound to notice if I try to smuggle your brother out."

"Ok, so if we both…"

"That's funny." Jenni said her attention falling on the entrance doors and the two police officers posted there. "Why are they here?"

Dean followed her gaze and instinctively ducked lower in the impala. Jenni turned to look at him, her eyebrows lifting as her mouth parted in horror. "Oh, God. They're here for you aren't they?" She started to fumble for the handle to the door, trying frantically to escape the confines of the impala.

"Jenni, wait!" Dean grabbed her shoulders and turned her to him, clamping one hand over her mouth, silencing her scream before it could push past her lips. "Shh, just hear me out. I promise I'm not going to hurt you."

Jenni's eyes continued to expand as she sucked air in through her nose. Her eyes welled up with terrified tears but she was unable to suppress them.

"Damn it, Jenni. I promise I'm not going to hurt you. But I'm not going to lie to you either. Yes, they are here for me, but I swear I didn't do what they say I did. I promise I'll explain it all to you later…just, please…I need to get Sam out of there."

He slowly lowered his hand from her mouth and released his hold on her shoulder. Jenni let in a slow deep breath; trying to steady herself as she stared at the man she had trusted so blindly.

"I could…I don't know, say I'm taking Sam in for some tests…sneak him out the back. You'd have to be right there though, in the staff parking."

"Ok, that would work." Dean started up the impala and pulled into the parking lot, pulling the classic around to the back of the building and parking where Jenni directed him. He kept the engine running so they could make a quick break for it once Jenni brought Sam out.

"I'll be back in ten minutes, if not call your cell."

Dean nodded and watched as Jenni walked into the building.


	29. Chapter 29

Chapter 29

Jenni did her best to look innocent as she made her way down the halls to Sam's room, pulling curious glances as police officers shuffled past her. As she turned down the hall that led to Sam's room she felt her heart pound against her ribcage. Dr. Runes and Kory were standing down the hall talking in hushed whispers.

Jenni straightened her shoulders and started down the hall, keeping her jaw locked to stop it from trembling. Kory and Dr. Runes looked up at her as she approached, both meeting her with twin looks of satisfaction.

"Morning Kory…Dr. Runes."

"Yes indeed it is, Jenni. Mr. Andrews would like to speak with you."

"Where is he?"

"In his office."

"Seemed important that he talk to you as soon as you got in, Jenni." Dr. Runes supplied.

"Oh, ok." Jenni shot a glance to the window looking into Sam's door to see a cop posted next to the bed. She felt a lump rise in her throat and her stomach twisted uncomfortably. She was in way over her head on this. She had no idea how she was going to pull this off.

"Jenni…"

Jenni glowered at Kory for a minute before turning on her heel and disappearing around the far corner. She had no intention on going to see Mr. Andrews, he had without a doubt heard about her breakdown the day before and would want to check up on her, either that or tell her to suck it up. Either way she really wasn't in the mood to listen to it today.

She shot a glance over her shoulder, checking to make sure that Kory or Dr. Runes hadn't followed her. Satisfied that she was indeed alone she slipped into the bathroom, locking the door behind her. She pulled her cell from her pocket and dialed the hospital's main number.

"This is Rachael how can I help you?"

"Rach, it's Jen."

"Jen?"

"Yeah, listen I need your help."

"Jen, did you know that there are cops all over the place? They are keeping close tabs on Sam…and looking for his brother."

"Rach, I know...I need you to listen to me for a sec..."

Rachael continued as if Jenni hadn't spoken. "He's wanted for murder apparently."

Jenni froze. She felt her legs trembling beneath her and grabbed onto one of the nearby sinks to help support her. "Wh…what?"

"Yeah, apparently Dean killed a few young women over in St. Louis."

"Oh, God."

"Yeah, police are keeping a constant surveillance on Sam. Don't want Dean to slip past them."

Jenni couldn't breathe; her world was spinning dizzily around her. She couldn't feel her hands, her hold on the sink loosened and she fell to the hard floor, one arm wrapped around her stomach while she gasped, desperately trying to fill her closing lungs.

"Jen? You ok? Jennifer!"

"Rach…" Jenni gasped trying to catch her breath. "Is there a cop by your station?"

"A few, yeah…why?"

"I know where Dean is. I can lead them to him."

"Jenni," Rachael sound worried.

"Give them the damn phone!" Jenni felt like throwing up.

"Hang on, hon."

Jenni waited a beat closing her eyes and breathing deeply in through her nose. After a moment a gruff voice greeted her.

"Officer Turpin. I was told you could lead us to the suspect?"

"Yeah, yeah I can. I know where he is." Jenni continued to gulp at air like a fish out of water.

"Where is he?"

"Out in the parking lot, saw him out by a red mustang, 1965 model."

"You're sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure." Jenni flipped the phone shut without saying anything more. She then slipped out of her heels and tossed them into one of the open stalls. They would only slow her down, not to mention announce her presence. She then slipped out of her white jacket and wadded it into a ball, tossing that in the stall as well.

She knew she didn't have long before the cops caught on to her distraction, she would have act fast and convincingly from here on out. She tugged at the top of her blouse, busting a few buttons, which scattered across the bathroom floor and disappeared. She pulled handfuls of hair from her elegant twist and ruffled the loose ends, making her look scruffy and upset. Satisfied she hurried out of the bathroom.

She walked as fast as she dared down the halls to Sam's room; surprised and relieved when she found it empty. A quick glance into the small window showed her that the officer hadn't left his post. She pushed open the door and let her eyes dart from Sam to the officer.

The officer eyed her scruffy appearance apprehensively. "Can I help you miss?"

"Just saying goodbye to one my patients, I was fired today." Jenni let her voice tremble and her eyes water.

The officer's eyes softened somewhat but he held his stiff position. Ever on the ready in case something came up.

Jenni opened up one of the medical drawers and filled a syringe before walking to Sam's bed, sitting on the edge.

"Jenni." Sam rasped his blank eye darting around in its socket. "Where's…what?"

"Shh. It's ok Sam." Jenni sniffed and brushed the back of her hand against her nose. "I'm going to give you something to make you sleep."

"No."

"Just relax, Kory and Dr. Runes will take good care of you."

"Excuse me, Miss? I'm not sure if you should…"

The officer didn't have a chance to finish his sentence. He had moved from his position to stop Jenni from injecting the sedative into Sam and she had turned with surprising speed and agility. She was quickly on her feet and the needle was in his neck before he knew what hit him. He gaped at her his eyes wide for a moment before his knees buckled and he collapsed with a thump.

"Jenni?"

"Sorry, Sam. Had to convince the 'ox' here that I wasn't here to spring you." Jenni pulled a bobby pin from its place in her loose twist and started working on the handcuffs that were keeping Sam in bed. After a minute the lock clicked and the cuffs were loose.

"Where's Dean?"

"He's waiting for you out in the staff parking lot." Jenni helped Sam to sit up, keeping a hand behind his shoulder as he swayed dizzily. Once sure he was secure enough to sit on his own Jenni pulled out the IV's and taped a couple cotton balls in their place to stop the blood flow.

"Sam, we need to get you out of here."

"Couldn't agree more."

"I'll get your clothes. You can change when we get back to my place."

"K."

Jenni quickly pulled Sam's belongings from the drawer provided and tossed them on the bed. "Don't move, I'll be right back."

She made her way to the door and stuck her head out, and saw a janitor down the hall. "Roger, can you get me a wheelchair please?"

"Sure, Jenni."

Roger disappeared and was back a minute later, pushing a wheelchair in front of him. Jenni thanked him and turned back into the room, taking the wheelchair with her.

"We'll be a lot fast if you ride in this, Sam. The faster we get out of here, the less time the cops have to check the parking lot for Dean."

Sam groaned and lifted a hand to his forehead.

"Hey? You ok?" Jenni stooped down before Sam, one hand lifting to rest against Sam's cheek. Sam pressed into the touch, his uncovered eye closed.

"How'd they find us?"

"We'll worry about that later, right now we need to get you both out of here." Jenni whispered urgently as she helped Sam to his feet and to the wheelchair. He settled into without complaint. She tossed his belongings onto his lap. "Hold those, make sure to keep them as flat as possible." Jenni yanked the top blanket off the bed and wrapped it around Sam's chest and legs, efficiently covering him.

"I feel dizzy."

"That's ok, Sam. You're still sick so that's normal. Just hang in there ok. We'll get you back to my place and you can lay down."

Sam nodded once and let his head hang down, so his chin was almost touching his chest.

Jenni maneuvered them out of the room and down the hall, keeping a constant eye out for police officers or fellow staff.

She had made it down three hallways before she heard the tell tale clicking of somebody's heels.

"Jenni!"

Jenni cringed, she was so busted. She looked over her shoulder to see Kory practically jogging up to her.

***  
Dean was getting more and more nervous as the minutes passed. He shouldn't have let Jenni do this on her own, he should be the one in there getting his brother out, not Jenni. He had let her in and had officially screwed up someone else's life. He couldn't believe he had been so stupid, he should have known that something like this would happen.

Still something was bothering him, how the hell did they find out? He was pretty sure that he only had the one ID in his wallet. He reached back and pulled out his wallet, flipping through all the ID's. Every single one of them had the same name on them. Dean Evans. It couldn't have been his then…but what about Sam's?

Dean tried to remember if he had given Sam the same ID, forcing his brain to focus on what their aliases were this time, but drew a blank. For the life of him he couldn't remember what Sam had told the coroner when they had examined the body. He had told the emergency that he and Sam had been out camping when they had been attacked by the harpy. They must have checked ID's then.

Shit. They were in it deep now and he knew it. What made it worse was Jenni had been thrown into it, just because she had tried to help them out. If she succeeded and managed to get Sam out of the hospital and all three of them disappeared she would be on the radar as well. He wouldn't be able to live with himself if that happened. She didn't deserve to be hunted down the rest of her life for trying to help. He'd find some way out of this for her.

He felt an uncomfortable knot tie up his stomach and looked again to the staff door.

"Come on, come on…where the hell are you?"

***  
Jenni glared at Kory as she slowed her pace, seeming almost casual as she approached them. She felt herself trembling as Kory eyed her up and down before finally smirking at her appearance.

"Nice look, Jenni. It does wonders for you."

"What the hell do you want, Kory?"

"Taking Sam somewhere?"

"He needs some eye tests done."

"Uh huh, and you actually expect me to believe that?"

"Why would I be lying about something like that?"

"Oh I don't know…the fact that we can't stand each other could be a big one. Or the biggest reason…the fact that I found Sam's guard out cold on the floor, right next to a syringe. Not a real smooth move there, Jen." Kory lifted the empty syringe, twisting it around in her fingers.

Jenni's fingers tightened around the handlebars to the wheelchair. She stared unblinking at the slow spinning syringe. "Don't know what you're talking about."

"You don't huh?" Kory sneered and stepped forward, her hot breath blowing on Jenni's face. "Well let me break it down for you. You get in too deep with a patient, get attached, find out he's wanted by the police, and try to smuggle them out of here. You get caught, end up in prison for the rest of your life, and me…well I get a promotion for being the one who caught the bitch trying to help the fugitive."

"Well you would deserve it after doing something like that."

Kory cocked and eyebrow and smirked at her.

"Unfortunately, I just can't allow that to happen." Jenni continued.

"What are you…ahhh!" Kory's sentence was broken with a cry of pain as Jenni's fist connected with her mouth.

"Guess you never knew that I took self defense lessons after I recovered from my surgery did you bitch?" Jenni swung her fist again this time smashing it against Kory's nose. "For months I put up with this shit from you, you acting like you were all high and mighty! What makes you so much better than me?" Jenni's socked foot connected with Kory's stomach knocking the wind out of her and making her double over in pain.

"I put up with your taunts, I put up with your attitude, and God knows I kept it all to myself. But not now! Not anymore!" Jenni's knuckles cracked as she connected with Kory's jaw. "I'm tired of taking this from you, if you have issues with me come out and say it but stop spreading rumors about me and stop spreading my life about the staff. Or I swear I will sue your ass for every penny you own!" Jenni spun around in a quick circle and knocked Kory off her feet with a well-placed round house.

Kory lay still on the floor, holding her bleeding nose in her hands, tears pouring from her eyes as she looked up at Jenni.

Jenni crouched over her, her eyes fiery. "And just for the record, bitch, I wasn't the one who reported you. Get your facts straight before you make assumptions and hope to God that I don't find out if you treat someone else this way."

Kory whimpered as Jenni stood and turned away from her. She grabbed the handlebars to the wheelchair and picked up the pace to a swift jog, turning around the last corner before the staff exit.

Kory's scream of pain and frustration echoed behind them.

"She's going to have security here in a minute, Sam. We need to pick up the pace." Jenni panted as she started to run, her socked feet sliding on the linoleum floor.

She locked her knees as she got within a couple feet of the staff door and spun herself and the wheelchair around, hitting her back against the handle and opening it.

"There she is! Stop!"

Jenni didn't stop she yanked Sam through the door and kicked it closed behind her. "Dean!"

Dean was already racing around the car, he had the back and passenger doors to the impala open before Jenni got there. He helped Sam into the front seat while Jenni climbed into the back. He slammed Sam's door and raced back around, started up the engine and yanked her into reverse, shooting up bits of loose asphalt as he pulled out of his spot quickly.

The staff door opened and two officers appeared, guns drawn and ready right after the impala disappeared around the far corner of the hospital. They looked at each other their expressions grave before one lifted his radio. "Sir, they're gone."

***  
"Holy…" Jenni breathed pressing a hand to her thundering heart. She leaned back against the bench, her eyes closing as she drew in several deep breaths.

"Jenni, you ok?" Dean shot her a concerned look in the rearview.

Jenni nodded and opened her eyes. "I'm good, Dean. Better than good. I'm great!"

Dean cocked an eyebrow at her before shooting a glance at his brother, surprised to see his brother grinning like a goon.

"What's so funny?"

"Dude she beat the snot out of Kory."

"What?" Dean shot Jenni another look.

"You have no idea how good it felt too." Jenni sighed before letting out a somewhat relieved laugh. "I've wanted to knock her socks off for weeks and never had the guts to do it…until now anyway."

"You seriously…when?"

"When she tried to stop us from escaping." Sam offered lifting a hand to his bandaged eye and pressing against it.

"So what you just turned around and gave her the whammy?"

"No."

"Kory ripped into her again and Jenni shut her up."

"I think I broke something." Jenni said studying her swollen knuckles. "Maybe I shouldn't have hit her so hard."

"We'll look at it later." Dean assured turning his attention back to the road. "Where are we going?"

"Back to my place."

"They'll come looking there first." Dean said quietly.

"Maybe so, but that isn't the only place I own, Dean. I'll need to get the keys."

"Make it quick, they'll be on our trail in no time."

"Do you guys need to stop at the bungalow for anything?"

"We should get our gear, Dean. We can stay at Jenni's until the heat is off."

"You're right. Jenni, get whatever is necessary and only what is necessary, the sooner we get out of town the better."

The impala made a sharp turn, squealing her protest as Dean barely let up on the gas. They made another quick left turn and stopped in the drive of Jenni's house. "We'll wait for you here. You have five minutes."

"I won't need that long." Jenni assured as she hopped out of the car and hurried up the stairs to her side door, keeping her left hand cradled against her chest. She soon disappeared from sight, leaving the door open behind her.

"So she really kicked Kory's ass?" Dean asked unable to keep the amusement from his voice.

Sam turned his head in Dean's direction and smiled. "Yeah, I didn't see it obviously, but from the sounds of things she was really beating into her."

"Can't say she didn't have it coming. Wondered how long it would take for Jenni to stand up for herself."

"Yeah well she let her have it. I'm pretty sure I heard something crack from one of the blows, wouldn't be surprised if Jenni did break something."

The brothers were silenced as the side door slammed shut and Jenni hurried down the stairs, a small bag over her shoulder and keys in her hand. She slid back into the backseat and shut the impala's door.

"That's all your taking?" Dean asked eyeing Jenni's small bag.

"Well if you want to eat when we get up there then yes." Jenni answered dropping the bag onto the seat next to her. Dean didn't miss how she kept her left hand close to her body, or the purple and severely swollen knuckles. He didn't doubt that something was broken.

"Clothes?"

"Dean we are going to my hideaway. I keep most of the essentials there."

"Oh." Dean pulled the impala back into reverse and pulled out of the drive.

***  
It was mid afternoon before the trio made it to Jenni's secluded hideaway cabin. Jenni showed the brothers to a guest room, complete with two singles and a single dresser before locking herself in her own bedroom across the hall.

Dean helped Sam to lie down on the bed furthest from the door, frowning at how weak Sam seemed.

"You need to talk to her, Dean." Sam whispered as his head hit the pillow, his exposed eye closed.

"I know, Sam. I just don't know what to say to her." Dean sat down on the edge of Sam's bed, toying with one of the knots on the hand tied blanket. "I mean she's on the run because of us…what can I possibly say to make that better?"

"You'll think of something. Tell her the truth."

"Yeah because that always goes well."

Sam shrugged and barely suppressed a yawn. "It's worth a shot, some people understood. Becky, Sarah, and Cassie…"

"That was only because they saw it with their own eyes, Sam. It's one thing to hear about it but something totally different to experience it first hand. Jenni will think I'm nuts."

"She likes you, Dean."

"That's the problem, Sam. It's because she likes me that she's in this situation. It's cost her everything, the police are going to be looking for her."

"She's smart, she'll come up with something convincing."

"Maybe, this is just…" Dean paused, rubbing a hand through his ruffled hair. "Our lives are so screwed up, Sam."

"They've always been screwed up, Dean."

"Yeah but even more so now."

"Didn't bother you before."

"Yeah it did." Dean confessed. Sam's eye popped open, staring blankly ahead of him. "Just not as much. I just figured that as long as we were together, you know…I knew we could get through anything. Now it's different."

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing."

There it was…the unavoidable shut down. Sam blew out a frustrated sigh and closed his eye again. He was surprised that Dean had opened up that much. The bed shifted as Dean pushed himself to his feet and padded across the room to sit on his own.

"Time is it?"

Dean glanced at his watch and shifted his eyes to the hall and Jenni's still closed bedroom door. "Three-thirty."

"Hmm…" Sam was half asleep now. Dean watched him until Sam's chest rose and fell in a deep rhythm. He then exited the room, closing the door halfway behind him, wanting to be able to hear Sam in case he woke up.

Dean stepped up to Jenni's door, hesitated, and then knocked softly.

"Come in, Dean."

Dean pushed open the door and poked his head around the edge. He saw Jenni sitting at a small desk in the corner of the room, she was looking into a small face mirror. She had pulled the rest of her hair from its twist and it now hung limply about her shoulders. She didn't bother looking at him as he came in but continued to look into the mirror.

"Jenni?"

"I'm fine, Dean."

"We need to wrap your knuckles."

Jenni turned away from the mirror and looked at him, her eyes were red rimmed and puffy. "Ok."

Dean retrieved the first aid kit from the bathroom and returned to the bedroom, Jenni was now sitting on the bed, holding her purple swollen hand protectively against her chest. She lifted her eyes as Dean entered the room and sat next to her.

Dean pulled her arm away from her body gently examining the swollen knuckles and prodding the middle one. Jenni hissed and jerked involuntarily.

"Well I think you definitely broke that middle one clobbering Kory." Dean said seriously as he retrieved the antiseptic and a cotton ball from the supplies. "You must have really got her good."

"Heard it crack when I hit her."

"Yeah, well I'd hate to see what she looks like right now. Where'd you hit her?"

"Which time?"

Dean's head jerked up, his eyebrows lifting in amusement. "How many times did you hit her?"

"Lost track, I kind of lost it back there."

Dean chuckled and began to wipe away the dried blood from Jenni's split knuckles. "Somebody must have taught you how to throw a punch."

"Took some lessons after…" Jenni shrugged off the rest of the sentence. "Anyway, think I broke her nose."

Dean smirked and slowly uncurled Jenni's fingers, pausing momentarily when she would hiss before continuing on with his ministrations.

"You know I broke a couple knuckles punching some guy's lights out once." Dean offered as he began to wrap Jenni's hand.

"You did?"

"Yep, fourth grade. Sammy was in kindergarten and some second grade punk started picking on him, so I threatened the little brat. He had an older brother in the sixth grade. We exchanged a few throws, I ended up with a black eye and bloody nose, he ended up going to the hospital. My Dad wasn't very happy."

Jenni chuckled and Dean offered her a trademark grin. He finished taping the wrappings in place and put the items back in the first aid kit.

"Sam have any problems after that?"

"Hell no, in fact he went around the school boasting that his brother was the one who beat up the sixth grader." Dean laughed remembering. "Kid always looked up to me."

"He still does, Dean."

Dean shot her a glance and looked away, studying his lap.

"There's a place down the road you can go to get Sam's medications filled. They'll be more affordable there."

"Ok."

Jenni examined her bandaged hand with unfocused eyes. "Dean, what was all this about today? Why are the cops after you?"

Dean chewed on his bottom lip for a moment studying Jenni as she continued to sit still, staring at her hand.

"Rachael told me you're wanted for murder." Jenni lifted her eyes to Dean's, their gazes locking. "It isn't true is it?"

"It's true. I am wanted for murder, Jenni. But I didn't kill anyone."

"So why are they after you?"

"You won't believe me."

"Try me."

"No, I'm serious. You'll think I'm nuts." Dean pushed himself to his feet and walked to the far side of the room, looking out the window and down to the view of Millwood Lake. The sun sparkled against the choppy blue surface and a few boats drifted around on the waves as fishermen lazily cast in their lines.

"Dean, please…I want to know."

"Jenni," Dean turned back to Jenni, leaning his back against the large window. "You've given up everything for us. You've risked everything for us. Why'd you do it?"

"Because I don't think you'd kill anyone, Dean. You said you didn't do it and I believe you."

Dean sighed and shook his head, his arms crossed over his chest. "Jenni, my brother and I hunt evil things."

"Evil things?"

"Like supernatural evil things. Ghosts. Demons. Vampires. Werewolves. They are all real and we hunt them down."

"Wait what?" Jenni got up off the bed and backed away from him, bumping into her dresser.

"Jenni, look I know its hard to believe, but I'm telling you the truth."

"You're telling me that werewolves are real? And vampires?"

"I know it sounds nuts but I swear…"

"I need some coffee…and a couple shots." Jenni turned and left the room.

"Damn it." Dean pushed away from the window and followed her. He caught up with her in the kitchen where she was starting the coffee maker, a bottle of bourbon was on the counter next to her. She picked it up and drank from the bottle, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand when she was done.

"Jenni, I know you think I'm crazy…"

"No, Dean. I don't think you're crazy." Jenni turned to him and studied him with weary eyes before taking another sip of the bourbon. "I believe you."

Dean was skeptical. "You do?"

"I've always believed that there was something more out there." Jenni nodded setting down the bottle and slowly spinning it around. "Ghosts and demons I knew for sure."

"What do you mean?"

"Well sometimes weird things happen at the hospital…people die there and I believe there is more for us than just this life. Your essence, spirit, ghost whatever you want to call it has to go somewhere when you die. And demons, well when I was little and used to go to church with my parents they used to talk about angels and demons. I believed that the angels would save us and that the demons would be forced back to hell. Until…well until later when my eyes were opened for me."

Jenni looked back up at Dean her eyes sparkling with unshed tears. He looked at her curiously but it was obvious that she wasn't going to offer any information on the topic.

Dean knew better than to press. He nodded to the now filled coffee pot. Jenni pulled a couple mugs from the cupboard and filled them both with the steaming liquid.

Dean downed half of his in a few swallows ignoring how the hot liquid scorched his tongue and the back of his throat. "Seriously, Jenni…what do you put in this?"

"A pinch of cinnamon and nutmeg."

"Huh…" Dean stared into his inky mug.

"My Mom used to do the same thing, my Dad liked his coffee that way. I remember watching her winking at me as she put in the two spices, making me promise not to tell him what was in it." Jenni rubbed the bottoms of her eyes, stilling the tears that tried to trickle down her face. "They died when I was ten, lived with my grandparents until I was eighteen and then moved out…went to college and bought this place with the money my parents left me."

"It's nice." Dean said looking around the log cabin.

"My parents used to rent it for the summer, we came every year for as long as I can remember. My Mom would stay here and bake us these huge dinners…and my Dad would take me swimming in the lake. One night they went out to the lake together, I was here with a babysitter…they never came back. Police dragged the lake…found their bodies a few weeks later."

Dean poured a stiff bout of bourbon into his coffee before adding some to Jenni's as well. "So you bought this place because it reminded you of them?"

Jenni nodded and sipped at her spiked coffee. "I suppose it seems dumb. Why buy a place that is so close to where your parents died?"

"I don't think so, Jenni."

Jenni looked up at him, a few more tears slipping down her cheeks. "Me neither." She looked around the cabin. The walls were pretty empty, she didn't get out here enough to decorate it, but still it was cozy, and in a way it was home. "You know this is the last place I can really remember feeling happy."

She drained the rest of her coffee and placed the mug in the sink. She walked to the back door and lifted her jacket off the peg there. "I'm going to get some fresh air, you better go get those medications for Sam before the drug store closes. If you don't he's going to be really miserable come morning."

Dean didn't have time to respond, Jenni was out the door and down the stairs before he could blink. He watched her disappear into a small clump of trees before he shut the door softly behind her.


	30. Chapter 30

Chapter 30

The cabin was quiet when Dean returned from getting Sam's prescriptions filled. Dean dropped the paper bag onto the kitchen table and walked down the hall to check on Sam.

Sam's breathing was still heavy and regulated. He had turned on his side facing the far side of the room, one arm draped across his belly while the other was cushioned under his head. His long legs were twisted at an angle Dean was sure couldn't be comfortable, and the blankets had been kicked down to his ankles.

Dean stepped silently into the room and gently untwisted Sam's legs and pulled the blankets back up over Sam's shoulders.

Sam frowned, his eyebrows narrowing slightly.

Dean brushed aside the dark locks that fell into Sam's eyes and placed a hand on Sam's forehead. Frowning a little at the heat he still felt there. His eyes ran over Sam's fever flushed face and the droplets of sweat that were trickling down Sam's neck.

Moving as quietly as he could, Dean crossed the room and retrieved their first aid kit, removing the thermometer. Sam stirred slightly when Dean slipped it into his ear.

"Easy, Sammy. It's ok."

"Mmm…Dean?"

"Yeah, it's me. Just take it easy, ok?"

The thermometer beeped and Dean removed it, frowning when he saw the reading. "We need to get your fever down, Sammy."

"Hmm?"

Dean hurried out of the room and returned a minute later with a few Advil and a glass of water. "Sammy, I need you to take these for me."

"'M tired, Dean."

"I know you are, Sammy. You can sleep after you take these for me, ok? They'll make you feel better."

Sam didn't bother open his eyes, but didn't fight as Dean helped him into a half sit. Dean pushed the two pills past Sam's lips and held the cup to his mouth, tipping some of the liquid in. Sam choked as the water trickled down his throat.

"Swallow, Sammy. Come on."

Sam's throat worked slowly as he struggled to get the pills and water down. He pulled away after a few swallows and Dean placed the cup onto the floor next to the bed before helping Sam to settle back under the covers.

Dean retrieved the cup and left the room again, leaving the door halfway closed behind him.

When he entered the kitchen he was surprised to see Jenni there, he hadn't even heard her come in. She was sitting at the kitchen table, the bottle of bourbon sitting in front of her, as well as a shot glass. She didn't look up as Dean made his way across the kitchen to dump out the remaining water in the sink, or when Dean sat down across from her.

He studied her silently, not missing the bloodshot eyes or the heavy lines that lingered on her face.

"'S no good ya know." Jenni said after a moment of silence.

"What?"

Jenni looked up at him, swaying slightly in her seat. It made Dean wonder just how much Jenni had had to drink. The bourbon bottle looked like it was barely touched but he had no idea where Jenni had gone when she had left earlier.

"Every thing." Jenni slurred and lifted a hand to her mouth as she hiccupped.

"We'll figure this out, Jen. It'll be ok."

"Noooo…" Jenni tried to grab the bourbon bottle and succeeded on her third attempt. She wasn't as successful in trying to get the bottle to her mouth, ending up spilling some of it on her blouse and some on the floor. "You canna bring 'em back, they is dead. Was dead long long long time go." She hiccupped again and threw up her hands, the bourbon bottle still held in one making the liquid spill onto the floor.

"I think you've had enough." Dean snatched the bottle from Jenni's loose hand before she could spill anymore.

"Hey! Thas mine! Gimme!"

"No. You're going to have one killer headache as it is."

"Do na care."

"Well you will tomorrow. Let's get you to bed."

"Not tired." Jenni slumped forward over the table her hand still outstretched for the bourbon bottle.

"Yeah you are, come on." Dean placed the bourbon bottle back on the counter before walking around the table and pulling Jenni to her feet. Jenni's knees wobbled dangerously as she tried to pull away from Dean, almost making them both fall to the floor.

Dean ground his teeth together and tightened his hold around her waist.

"We was on the news."

Dean cocked an eyebrow at her, suddenly feeling apprehensive.

"An you know wha?"

"What?"

"They talk a lot." Jenni started making talking motions with her hands. Dean helped her down the hall and into her bedroom where he pulled off her shoes before making her lie down on the bed and covering her with blankets.

"Get some sleep, Jenni."

"Dean…"

"Hmm?"

"Gimme the bottle, I wanna finish it."

"You can finish it tomorrow. You've had enough."

"My bottle, I paid for it."

"Yep you did. Looks like you paid for others as well."

"Needs...need...needed a break." Jenni tried her eyebrows furrowed in concentration as she spoke.

"Well you got it, and you'll be feeling it tomorrow."

"'M tired."

"Get some sleep. We'll see you tomorrow."

"K."

Jenni turned over and buried her head into her pillow, fisting her hands into the bed sheets. Dean went to the kitchen and retrieved a large bowl, placing it next to the bed before he left her alone, closing the door behind him.

"Great, just great." Dean walked down the hall to the large space that served as the dining and lounge rooms. There was a small two-man couch and a single lounge chair in one corner, sitting next to a large bookcase, and a small TV sitting on a small stand in the corner. The thing had to be older than he was.

Dean crouched down in front of the TV; doubtful that the dumb thing would even work, but was very surprised when it crackled to life when he hit the power button. He could hardly see the picture due to a combination of the fuzzy lines that were constantly wavering over the TV and the small screen, but the sound was somewhat coherent.

He started to scan through the channels, trying to pick up any kind of news station. He had to see for himself what the reports were saying.

_"Police are still looking for any possible leads, if you have any information on the fugitives, and the missing nurse please call…" _

Damn. He had missed it. Frustrated Dean flipped off the small TV set and ran a hand over the stubble lining his chin. They would have to make sure to keep a low profile while staying here. Any unwanted attention could lead to trouble and they were in deep enough as it was.

A sound of something being knocked over from one of the bedrooms had him darting down the hall. Jenni's room was still quiet, but he could hear the sounds of Sam panting in the room that the two brothers were sharing.

Dean pushed open the door and hurried to the bed where Sam was struggling to sit up. His breath was coming in heavy gasps and he had one hand pushed against his bandaged eye while the other was fisted against the bed sheets, his arm trembling as he tried to hold his body upright.

"Sam, what are you doing?" Dean pulled Sam's hand away from his bandaged eye and studied his brother, a line forming between his brows.

"Hurts, it's burning."

"Shit, hang on." Dean used the bed for leverage as he pushed himself to his feet and sprinted down the hall to retrieve the paper bag from the table. He hurried back down to their bedroom, pulling out both bottles as he neared the bed.

Sam had managed a half sit, although somewhat slumped, and had both hands pushed against his eyes. Dean could see the tears being squeezed loose from Sam's exposed eye, the only sign Sam would outwardly show as to how much agony he was in.

"We need to get you lying down, Sammy." Dean said dumping the meds on the floor and cupping the back of Sam's neck with one hand while pushing firmly against Sam's chest with the other.

Sam sank back onto the pillow, the few tears that had trickled loose changed course and trickled into his dark locks. He blinked his blank eye at the ceiling and swallowed hard against the pain, his jaw clenching tightly.

Dean sat on the edge of the bed and retrieved the two bottles from the floor, studying the instructions on both bottles before he unscrewed one of them and pulled out the eye drops. He gently undid the tape holding the gauze pad over Sam's eye and pulled the lid back exposing the still pink sclera.

Sam instinctually tried to squint his eye against his brother's rough fingers. His neck arched slightly as he tilted his chin up in an attempt to escape.

"Sam, you need to hold still." Dean ground out as he squeezed a few drops into Sam's sore eye before releasing the lid, allowing it to close. He rubbed the lid as gently as he could, working the medicine around in Sam's eye.

Sam hissed against the odd sensation and once again tried to pull away from Dean's touch.

Dean ignored this, using his free hand to grab Sam's chin and hold his head still until he had rubbed Sam's eyelid for a full minute. He then turned to his other eye and repeated the process. Sam whimpered slightly but remained still as Dean worked, knowing that fighting was useless and would only extend the process.

Dean then popped open the bottle of pain medication and pulled out a large pill. He studied it incredulously. "What the hell do they think you are? This is a freakin' horse pill."

"What is it?" Sam asked roughly as he worked to open his least sore eye.

"Nothing, I just need you to take this, Sam. Let me go get you some water first." Dean put the pill back into the bottle for a minute before walking to the kitchen and filling the largest glass he could find with water. He had a feeling Sam was going to need all the water he could get to force this sucker down.

Sam had visibly calmed by the time Dean had returned to the room. He had a few tears still working their way into his hair, but other than that he seemed fairly normal. His hands were resting on his stomach, tapping out a rhythm Dean couldn't quite place.

Dean once again sat on the edge of the bed and palmed one of the horse pills again. "Ok, Sammy. Time for your pain pill."

He placed the water cup between his legs, holding it steady and freeing one hand so he could elevate Sam's head slightly. He pushed the pill in between Sam's lips and instantly held the cup to Sam's mouth so he couldn't spit it out.

Sam pulled a face as the sour tasting pill hit his tongue. He moved it around a bit, attempting to spit it out, but Dean was too fast and had the water glass pushed against his lips, the water already trickling inside his mouth. Sam gagged as the sour pilled started to dissolve, the water only amplifying the bitter taste.

"Just swallow the damn thing, Sam." Dean urged as he watched Sam's throat bob convulsively.

Sam whimpered, the taste had saturated into the insides of his cheeks and was stuck permanently on his tongue. The pill continued to sit there, the sour taste making his gag reflex stop it from going down, all the while Dean pour small amounts of water into his mouth to try to encourage him to swallow.

Sam choked as water slipped down his throat without him swallowing it. One of his hands reached out and grabbed at Dean's shirt, twisting it in his fingers as he choked and gagged.

"Damn it, Sam." Dean put the water glass between his legs again and lifted his now free hand to Sam's throat, massaging it with two fingers. "Come on, just swallow it and it will be over. Come on, Sammy. You can do it. Just swallow the pill."

The half dissolved pill finally pushed its way down his throat as Dean's encouraging massaging continued. Sam's eyes watered and more tears splashed down onto his cheeks. He coughed again, gagging against the aftertaste in his mouth.

Dean held the cup of water to Sam's lips and helped Sam to down half the glass. Only when Sam started to cough against the water build up in his throat did Dean pull back again.

He set the glass down on the floor and gently lowered Sam back to the pillows. Sam was blinking lazily at the ceiling, his movements slow and uncoordinated.

"Easy, Sammy. Just relax, you're ok. I gotcha." Dean soothed as Sam's hand refused to let go of the death hold he had on Dean's shirt.

"Feel funny."

"You're ok, it's just the pain med."

"Floating…dizzy."

"Close your eyes, you won't feel so dizzy."

Sam closed his eyes and let out a soft breath. Dean placed a hand on Sam's fever flushed cheek, wiping away a stray tear that had not yet dried with his thumb. "How's the burning, Sam?"

"'S not, anymore."

"That's good."

"Dean…"

"What is it, Sam?"

Sam opened one eye and let his eye roam around in its socket. "What you wearing?"

Dean looked down at himself. "My gray t-shirt and red button up."

Sam closed his eye again. "Dean...why...black...awake...colors...sleep?"

Dean felt his stomach clench painfully. He had had no idea that when sleeping Sam was actually dreaming…was actually seeing things in his sleep. It made this so much harder.

"You're not actually seeing in your sleep, Sammy. It's just your mind playing things out."

"Don't…dark…not…me…" Sam struggled with each word, his brows meeting in the middle as he tried to gather his scattered thoughts.

"It's ok, Sammy. The dark won't last forever." Dean assured gently brushing Sam's hair away from his face.

"Dean…"

"Sam, you need to sleep."

"Seeing…you…miss…"

Dean felt a moist drop fall down his cheek as he watched the drug pull Sam under. He impatiently brushed the single tear away. "I know you do, kiddo. I wish more than anything that I could fix this for you. God, I'd give anything if I could."

Sam sighed quietly as he sunk further into sleep. Dean pulled Sam's hand from his arm and tucked it under the blankets, before standing and pulling the sheets over Sam's shoulders.

Sam turned his head toward his brother, a few locks of hair falling over his closed eyelids. Dean sank onto his own bed and watched Sam's chest rise and fall under the bed sheets for a minute before pushing himself to his feet and leaving the room.

If they were going to stay here, they were going to need to protect the place from all things supernatural. He wandered into the kitchen and searched the cabinets until he found a large canister of salt. He went around the small cabin taking great care to line every door and window with the condiment. He then settled down in the lone lounge chair in front of the TV, watching blearily at the distorted images on the small screen. He was too tired to get to his feet again and was unaware of his eyes closing as his body gave into the exhaustion plaguing him.

***  
The first thing she was aware of were the drums pounding inside her skull. She groaned, lifting a hand to her face and pushing against her eyes with her thumb and forefinger. She felt her stomach churning uncomfortably as she rolled over onto her back. Where was she anyway?

She opened her clouded eyes slowly, letting them move sluggishly around the room so as not to aggravate her stomach further. She recognized the place, the room, although she had no memory of coming in here last night. In fact the last coherent thought was getting Bill the bartender's promise to drive her home, having full intentions of getting stinking drunk.

She had lost track of how many tequila shots she had consumed the night before, but as instructed Bill had kept them coming until Jenni had been unable to stay on her barstool. When she had flopped onto the floor like a weak fish Bill had handed over the responsibility of the bar to his wife and loaded Jenni up in the truck to drive her back to the cabin.

Things after that were a bit of a blur. She didn't have the faintest idea of how she had made it into the cabin, or her bed. Moaning softly, Jenni swung her legs over the edge of the bed and put a hand on the wall to steady herself as she pushed herself to her feet. The room spun slightly and she closed her eyes, breathing deeply through her nose until the dizziness and nausea passed.

Once sure that she could make it two steps without collapsing Jenni let go of the wall and began to shuffle her way through the room. She really needed an Advil or something. Anything to get rid of the rock and roll concert thundering away in her head.

As she entered the hall she saw the door to the room the guys' were sharing halfway open. Wondering if either of them were up or not Jenni stuck her head in the door, grabbing hold of the doorknob to steady herself.

Sam was on his stomach, with his head turned to the side. His back rose and fell in a soft steady rhythm. The covers were pooled at the bottom of the bed just over his ankles. He was clad in nothing but a light t-shirt and his boxers. Even from her position Jenni could see the small shivers that shook his body.

Having someone to look after, or to help look after, helped steady her, and pushed the pounding headache to the back of her mind. She made her way quietly into the room and pulled the blankets over Sam's body, tucking them firmly around Sam's shoulders.

She pushed away Sam's hair as she placed a hand to his forehead, feeling the fever that still resided there. He didn't feel quite as warm as he had yesterday though and the pale flush that had taken residence in Sam's face was replaced with a nice rosy color in his cheeks.

"Dean." Sam mumbled still not awake but on some level aware that he wasn't alone either. Jenni smiled at the young man for a moment before she turned to look at the other bed.

It was empty, and from the looks of the tightly tucked sheets and barely rumpled comforter Jenni had no doubt that Dean had not slept in it. With one last glance at Sam she hurried out of the room and walked down the hall, hoping to find Dean somewhere nearby.

As she entered the small living area she heard the static of the TV and turned towards the sound. The small black and white machine had nothing but a fuzzy image on it and that would jump every minute as a fuzzy line would run up and down the picture.

Jenni walked over and flipped it off, sending the room into silence. Except it wasn't.

The soft sounds of even breathing had Jenni looking at the lounge chair.

Dean was sitting in what had to be a very uncomfortable position. His legs were at an odd angle and his arms were crossed over his chest. His head was resting at the edge of the chair, hanging somewhat limply on his neck.

"Oh, Dean. Why didn't you pull it out if you were going to sleep there?" Jenni asked gently as she stooped next to the side of the chair. She pulled on the small lever that pushed out the leg rest. Dean's breathing paused as the chair was tilted back and his legs were extended out to a more comfortable position. Jenni waited with baited breath, keeping her fingers crossed that he wouldn't wake. Even in sleep Dean looked exhausted and she had no doubt that he was.

Fortunately, Dean didn't wake. He shifted slightly in the chair, taking a much more comfortable position and soon his breathing was once again deep and even. Jenni tugged a small blanket from the back of the couch and pulled it over Dean. Once again his breathing paused for a moment before resuming.

Jenni sat back on her heels next to the chair, simply watching him. She liked him when he slept. When he was awake he was so different with so much more on his shoulders, but when he slept he was peaceful. She liked how young and carefree it made him look. She felt her feet start to tingle as her circulation was cut off and adjusted her position, pulling her knees up to her chest, arms wrapped around her legs, and chin resting on top of her knees.

Dean frowned slightly in his sleep and turned his head towards Jenni, pulling the blanket further over him. Jenni recognized the look that was now etched into Dean's face. Whatever he was dreaming about was bothering him, putting another burden on his shoulders that he couldn't afford to take. He was crumbling from what he had already.

Jenni's stomach rumbled, and the promise of painkillers and coffee beckoned her away from Dean's side and into the small kitchen. She placed some coffee grinds into a filter and slipped it into the coffee maker and started the hot water before digging through the cabinets trying to remember where she had placed the Advil.

"It's in the second cupboard on the left." A rough voice said softly from the doorway.

Jenni jumped and automatically spun to face the newcomer.

Dean was leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest. Although he still had dark bags under his eyes and the lines on his face still betrayed his exhaustion Dean looked at least a little more rested than he had the day before.

Jenni opened the cupboard and retrieved the bottle of Advil, popped a few into her mouth, and swallowed them dry. "Sorry, Dean. I didn't mean to wake you."

"You didn't." Dean pushed away from the doorframe and pulled down a couple of mugs from a different cupboard. He filled both with the freshly brewed coffee and handed one to Jenni.

She accepted her mug but didn't drink any. The sudden thought of coffee was making her stomach churn. It wasn't nearly as appealing as it had been a few minutes ago. She set it down on the cupboard after a moment and rubbed at her temples with both hands, trying to massage away the ache there.  
"How's your head?" Dean asked sipping at his coffee, but he didn't bother to look at her.

"What's the number of the bus that hit me last night?"

Dean smirked and lifted his eyes to lock with hers. "Guess all the booze wasn't such a good idea was it?"

"I don't remember much after my fourth shot of tequila." Jenni moaned.

"Four? How many did you have?"

"Um, Bill could probably tell you. I honestly don't know."

"Jenni, what was all that about last night? Was it because of what happened?"

"No, Dean. It doesn't have anything to do with you guys. I promise. It's just this place…" Jenni trailed off letting her eyes fall to the floor. "I just haven't been here in a long time, you know?"

Dean dropped his head. He knew that coming back here had to be hard for Jenni, especially if she hadn't been here for a while. The memories that were associated with this place had to be rough ones…and having to relive them last night…telling him. It was no wonder that Jenni had gone out to get drunk out of her gourd. He would have done the same thing in her place.

Hell, after John's death he had. For the first few days at Bobby's Dean would stay outside working on the car all day, not saying a word to Sam, only joining the others at dinner time. He would then borrow Bobby's truck and go to the nearby tavern where he would drink himself into a stupor. Sam or Bobby would eventually have to come out there and drive him back.

After the first week though, Dean had come to the realization that the alcohol intake wasn't helping to drown out the grief consuming him. It was only giving him headaches in the morning and slowing his progress on the impala. He had decided to skip it after that. He worked on the impala from sunrise until darkness prevented him from seeing what he was doing. Only then would he call it a night. He'd grab a quick bite from the kitchen then go off to the bathroom to get cleaned up and head off to bed without saying a word to Sam or Bobby.

The only interruption to the pattern had been when Sam had cracked the password on John's phone, leading to the inevitable introduction of Ellen, Jo, and Ash…and the hunt against evil clowns. Once they had returned from that little joyride, Dean had once again fallen into his routine.

Bobby or Sam would come out on occasion to see how he was doing, or to ask if he had wanted anything. They were only met with grunts or one-worded answers. Sam had picked up the habit of bringing out water bottles to accompany the beer that Dean had packed in the cooler…or bringing out a sandwich for Dean's lunch. But otherwise both Sam and Bobby had learned to leave him alone, to let him sort through things on his own.

"…got over this years ago. I don't know what's wrong with me."

Dean shook his head, trying to clear his muddled mind. He realized that Jenni had been speaking for a few minutes and he had just caught the tail end of it. Still with what he had just picked up he was pretty sure he knew what the topic was about.

"Jenni, it's ok to miss them. They were your parents. It's ok to feel these things."

"It's just…" Jenni looked around the small kitchen her eyes sparkling with unshed tears. "I can still see them here you know?"

Dean nodded and set his coffee mug down. He stepped up to Jenni and pulled her against him, his arms locking around her waist, pinning her hips to his. Jenni buried her face in Dean's shirt and let the tears fall. Dean rested his chin on the crown of Jenni's head holding tightly to her as he let her release her pent up emotions.

"It's ok, Jenni. It's going to be ok."

***  
The sounds of voices coming from somewhere in this unfamiliar place pulled Sam from the comfort of his mind. He kept his eyes closed, hoping that oblivion would once again pull him under. He didn't want to come back to this reality, the reality in which he couldn't see, in which he was totally dependant on his brother. He didn't want to be helpless anymore, it wasn't the Winchester way to be dependant on someone. John had ingrained on them from an early age that being independant was as important as being part of a team.

Right now Sam didn't feel like he was part of a team, or even part of the brotherhood that he and Dean shared. He felt like an extra burden that Dean had shouldered, something he was sure Dean couldn't handle right now. Not with everything else that had happened.

The voices faded and the house was quiet. Sam slowly pulled apart his eyelids, wincing at the burning sensation in the left eye. He let that one close again and focused solely on keep his right eye open.

He was used to the blackness now. He didn't like it any better than he had the first day in the hospital when he had been told that his eyes were damaged, but he had grown more accustomed to it.

But today something was different and it scared and excited him at the same time.

"Dean!"

The room was silent except for his heavy breathing. Sam rolled to the edge of the bed and sat up, before pushing himself to his feet. "Dean!" He held his hands out, reaching for something, anything…but felt nothing. The empty space in front of him frightened him. "Dean!"

***  
Dean pulled away from Jenni, his head twisting to look over his shoulder. "You hear that?"

Jenni sniffed and looked up at Dean, a few tears still pooling in her eyes. "Hear what?"

"I think Sam's awake."

"Go check on him. I'm ok." Jenni wiped at her eyes furiously.

Dean spun on his heel and dashed down the short hallway to their shared room. He pushed open the door to see Sam standing in between the beds, his hands outstretched and reaching for something to grab onto. Dean closed the distance between them quickly and grabbed Sam's arms in his strong hands, pushing Sam back down on the bed.

"Sammy, I'm here."

"Dean…" Sam panted twisting his arms in Dean's grip so he could grab onto Dean's shoulders.

"What is it?" Dean asked tightening his grip.

Sam's right eye twisted around and fell on Dean. Dean was used to this by now, Sam often let his blank eyes fall on him when he was sure of Dean's location.

This time seemed different though, a smile pulled at Sam's lips as his eye fell on Dean and his eyebrows rose in excitement.

"Dean, I can see you!"

"You can see me?" Dean rose up and gripped Sam's upper arms in a tight grip. "Really? You can see?"

"It's hard to make out, but the black's gone…I can see…well it looks like a shadow but it's you!" Sam's fingers twisted in the material of Dean's shirt. Tears trickled from Sam's eyes, trailing identical lines down his cheeks before they dripped off his chin, falling to his bare legs.

Dean released his hold on Sam's shoulders and gripped the front of his brother's shirt, holding tightly to him as he hauled him to his feet. Sam let his good eye trail down the shadowy shape of his brother, his hands falling from his brother's shoulders to Dean's front where he reached forward blindly, finally grabbing hold of Dean's shirt front. He was surprised when he felt two small moisture droplets hit his arms, he twisted his head quizzically at his brother. He listened closely to his brother's breathing, his hands feeling his brother's firm muscles contracting under his shirt.

"Dean, you ok?" Sam forced his left eye open as well, ignoring the burning there.

"God, Sam." Dean's hands lifted to Sam's cheeks holding his head gently. His voice betrayed the emotions riding under the surface.

Sam felt more tears fall down his cheeks only to be brushed gently away by Dean's calloused thumbs.

"This is great news, Sam." Dean said his voice steadier now. He released his hold on Sam's face and pinched at his nose for a minute before looking around the room and spotting Sam's cane up against the far wall. "Come on, let's go get some breakfast and then we'll have Jenni look at you."

"Ok." Sam released his hold on Dean and waited for the cane, taking it without complaint this time. Dean placed a gentle hand on Sam's shoulder, easing him forward. Sam took a few hesitant steps only to be stopped by his brother's strong hands.

"Easy kiddo, that's the door." Dean said quietly as he turned Sam in the right direction. Sam hit his cane against the doorframe and stepped forward into the hall, Dean on his heels. Even though Sam's eyes were showing improvement it didn't mean that he could see much. Just shadows and basic outlines, and Dean was sure that was confusing. He'd have to keep a close eye on Sam, making sure he didn't push himself too hard or too fast. Still he couldn't hide the glimmer of hope as he followed Sam down the hall. That maybe just maybe one day their life could return to normal. Or as normal as it ever had been, and Sam would be given a second chance.


	31. Chapter 31

Chapter 31

Dean busied himself with popping toast in the toaster and cracking a few eggs in the frying pan while Jenni crouched down in front of Sam.

When the brothers had entered the room, Dean had helped Sam to the small table and pushed him gently onto one of the chairs. He had cocked an eyebrow at Sam when Jenni had looked at him before walking to the cupboard and retrieving a third mug for coffee.

Jenni had looked at him for a minute before turning her attention to Sam. She was somewhat surprised to see Sam's hand skimming over the table's surface, getting a layout of the size. She shot Dean another glance, but he was too busy pouring the still warm coffee into Sam's mug.

"Sam?" Jenni didn't touch him, but waited until Sam had turned his attention to her.

Sam looked at her for a minute his hazel eyes fixing on her. "I can see."

"What?" Jenni looked up at Dean as he set Sam's coffee mug onto the table. "Why didn't you say something?"

Dean merely smirked and shrugged before turning to the stove and mixing the now sizzling eggs.

"Sam," Jenni returned her attention to Sam and looked into his rapidly darting eyes. "How much can you see?"

"Shadows mostly, some shapes."

"How far away can you see?"

Sam squinted his eyes and lifted a hand to rub at his forehead. "Not far."

"How far is not far, Sam?" Jenni turned her head to look over at Dean and nodded towards him. "Can you see Dean over by the stove?"

Sam continued to rub at his forehead, lifting his second hand and rubbing at both temples.

"Sam, are you hurting?"

"My head…" Sam ground out between clenched teeth.

Dean, who had been sliding the frying pan off the burner, was instantly at Sam's side, grabbing Sam's wrists in his strong hands. "Sammy, what is it?"

"Headache." Sam leaned his head forward, meeting Dean's shoulder.

"Jenni, grab me some Advil will you?"

"Of course." Jenni jumped up from her crouched position and grabbed the painkillers from where she had left them on the countertop. She filled a small glass of water and palmed a couple of the pills before rejoining Dean.

"Sammy, take these for me."

Sam palmed the pills and accepted the cup from his brother. With a little guidance from Dean he managed to get both into his mouth, only spilling a bit of the water down his chin.

"Sam is it…?" Dean trailed off not looking at Jenni as she shot him a quizzical look.

"No, just a headache." Sam breathed rubbing the bridge of his nose.

"It's the strain from the eyes that's causing it." Jenni crouched down next to Dean. "Sam, how distinguishable are the shadows?"

"Uh, depends on what it is." Sam moaned. His hand fell limply from his face and onto his lap. Jenni lifted a hand and gently eased open each of Sam's eyelids. Sam squinted and tried to pull away from Jenni's fingers, Jenni let him.

"Sam open your eyes."

Sam opened his left eye and let it focus on the two blurry shadows before him. Pain was making it almost impossible to keep it open. He wanted desperately to shut it again, but for now he kept it open and focused as best he could.

"How clear are we, Sam?" Jenni asked. Dean shot her a dark look but then returned his gaze to his brother.

"Fuzzy. It's hard to see where you end." Sam closed his eye again.

Dean lifted an eyebrow in silent inquiry but Jenni ignored the look.

"Sam, can you see out of your right eye at all?"

Sam seemed to struggle a lot more with pulling apart his right eyelid and keeping the eye open once he had accomplished it. "Sort of, its worse though."

"Any colors or is it all black?"

"Black, no colors."

"Dean, go get my first aid kit please. The big one under the sink."

Dean didn't look happy but left to retrieve the required item.

Jenni waited until Dean was out of earshot. "Sam, how bad is the pain?"

"Which one?"

"Your eyes. The headache is just superficial."

"My left isn't too bad, my right is burning a bit."

"Sam, even though you can see I want you to continue to wear the gauze patches. I'm going to take a closer look but I think some of the damaged eye tissue is actually healing. That's why you can see, but if you strain them, or push too hard you can do more damage than good."

"But I can see."

Jenni sighed. "I know, Sam. But that doesn't mean your eyes aren't still damaged. If you push yourself too hard too fast you are going to setback your recovery. Possibly doing more damage."

It was then that Dean rejoined them, first aid kit in hand. He wordlessly handed it to Jenni and grabbed one of the remaining dining chairs, pulling it close to Sam and straddling it. He crossed his arms over the back and let his chin rest on his arms, watching as Jenni dug around in the kit.

She withdrew a small handheld instrument and gently peeled back Sam's eyelids, looking into each eye with the object before releasing Sam, muttering something to herself and dropping the tool back into her kit.

"Well from what I can see, Sam, it does look like the damaged tissue is breaking up and healing. Still, I want you to wear the gauze pads. If you continue to heal like this we should get you in to see a specialized eye doctor for a full diagnosis."

"Jenni, do you think that is such a good idea? You said last night we were all over the news." Dean pointed out suddenly, shooting Sam a concerned glance when he leaned into him.

Jenni snapped the clasps on her kit and chewed on her bottom lip thoughtfully. "You're right. Wasn't thinking about that." She turned her attention back to the brothers. "We are going to have to risk it, Dean. Sam is going to need more care than I can provide. I'm not specialized in the human eye, and he's going to need glasses to help reduce the strain that seeing is going to put on his eyes."

Sam blanched. "Glasses?"

Dean shifted in his chair, allowing some of his weight to press against his brother. The move and shift was so subtle that if Jenni hadn't been watching she would have missed it. She watched the brothers for a minute, once again floored by the rare bond shared between the two of them.

"Yes, Sam. You're going to need glasses."

"I don't…"

"They won't be permanent, dude." Dean interjected. He sent Jenni a warning glance as she opened her mouth to argue with him.

Jenni snapped her jaw closed and glared at Dean. She didn't feel it was fair to fill Sam with false hopes that the glasses would be temporary. There would be a good chance that Sam would need them for the rest of his life. Eye injuries were tricky, and Sam's case had been extremely frustrating at times. Jenni knew that they could find a pair of frames that would be subtle. But she knew that wasn't the underlying problem.

Glasses would be a hindrance to what the boys did. Dean had said they hunted evil. Jenni had no idea how they did that, what it involved, but depending on something like glasses could be a handicap. Glasses could easily be knocked off and lost or even broken. Sam could also have other complications with his eyes. Jenni could name at least ten but she as she looked at the brothers she knew that neither of them were interested in hearing about any of them.

She would have to save it for a specialized eye doctor to deliver the bad news. She knew that the brothers wouldn't like it any better coming from a stranger, that is if she could convince them to go see one. She knew that Sam wouldn't have a choice. Wanted by the police or not they needed to get Sam's progress checked out. She knew there was an eye care facility in Batesville, but she didn't know too much about it. She knew it would take about eight hours round trip back and forth, and that didn't include the eye examination itself. Still as Sam continued to heal she would have to convince Dean that it was in Sam's best interest to go and get him checked out.

"Jenni!"

Jenni jerked and turned to face Dean, surprised to see he was slipping the now cold eggs onto a couple plates.

"Did you want some breakfast?"

The thought alone made Jenni's stomach turn. She shook her head and pushed herself to her feet. "No thanks."

Dean frowned at her and stopped scooping out the eggs onto one of the plates he had pulled from one of the cupboards. "You need to eat something. You want some toast?"

Jenni shook her head again. "No I'm good, Dean. I'm just going to go lie down for a while."

"You sure?"

"Yeah I'm sure."

Jenni left the brothers in the kitchen, dropped the first aid kit onto the counter next to the sink in the bathroom, and walked into her bedroom. She shut the door quietly behind her before sinking onto the bed, rubbing weary hands over her face.

***  
Dean stared after Jenni, jaw tense, frying pan still held in his hand. Something was eating at her. He wasn't sure if it was because of everything that had happened or because of Sam. Either way he didn't want to mess with it. He dumped the remaining eggs onto a second plate, snatched the two pieces of toast from the toaster and walked back to the table, pushing a plate in front of his brother, before grabbing the chair he had been occupying earlier and pulled it up to the table. He straddled it, staring at his brother.

Sam hadn't moved when Dean had pushed the plate to him, he was sitting facing away from the table, hands in his lap. He kept his left eye open but the right closed, Dean had a feeling that his right eye was still extremely painful thanks to the infection. He didn't need to have Sam voice it to know that Sam was in pain. The kid let it roll off of him in waves.

"Eat your breakfast, Sam. You can't take the pain meds on an empty stomach." Dean lifted a forkful of eggs into his mouth.

Sam sighed, but didn't make a move to touch his breakfast.

Dean groaned inwardly. "What is it, Sam?"

Sam turned his head in Dean's direction before dropping it back to its previous position. "Do you think Jenni's right, Dean?"

"About what?"

"About the glasses?"

"Sam, even if she is right, they aren't going to be permanent."

"What if they are, Dean?"

"Then you'll wear them. No big deal."

"Dean, they'll be a liability. I'll still be a liability."

Dean frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I won't be able to see without them, Dean. What happens if I loose them during a hunt?"

"We'll glue them to your nose." Dean teased.

"Dean! I'm serious!" Sam glared at his lap.

"Sam, you're getting worked up over nothing. Listen we'll go see some specialist if necessary and do what he says but we are taking this one step at a time. And we aren't going hunting until you feel ready. Ok?"

Sam refused to look at him.

"Ok?" Dean pressed shifting toward his brother.

"Ok." Sam snapped finally lifted his gaze and stared blankly at the far wall.

"Ok." Dean picked up another forkful of eggs and shoved them into his mouth. "Eat your breakfast, Sam."

Sam grimaced. Dean couldn't help but smile. Even blind he was able to gross his brother out. Sam rotated slowly to the table and fumbled blindly around on the table for his fork. Dean gently grasped Sam's wrist and showed him where his fork, plate, and coffee were.

Sam fisted his hand over the fork and hit the plate with it, having to search a few seconds before finding the eggs.

Dean watched him, finishing his coffee, and rose to get some more.

"Dean," Sam said softly as he stirred the eggs around on his plate, the fork making hair raising scraping noises as it ran over the ceramic dish.

Dean shuddered and poured the remains of the coffee into his mug. "What Sam?"

"If the glasses are permanent…what if, well…"

Dean turned to face his brother, sipping at the warm brew. "What?"

"Well, what if I don't want to hunt?"

Dean stared down into the inky depths of his coffee, chewing on the tip of his tongue. "Then we won't hunt." He shrugged one shoulder lazily before sipping his coffee. "You'll go back to Stanford, get your full ride."

"What about you?"

"Honestly, I don't know." Dean set his mug down on the counter and crossed his arms over his chest. "Never thought that far ahead."

"You won't keep hunting will you?" Sam had abandoned the eggs and had begun to tear apart his toast, making small crumbs litter the tabletop.

"There are other hunters out there, Sam. I don't know if I can ever stop hunting. It's impossible to forget what's out there in the dark, you know?"

"Yeah I know." Sam stopped tearing apart the toast and dropped the pieces. He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. "You know when I went to Stanford I never really forgot about this stuff. Roommates always thought it was weird that I salted the windows and kept a knife under my pillow."

Dean smirked. "How'd you explain that one?"

"Didn't. Figured they wouldn't understand. So I just let them make their own assumptions."

"Bet they thought you were a freak, huh?"

Sam laughed half-heartedly. "Yeah, probably."

"So when did you stop?"

"Stop what?"

Dean cocked an eyebrow at his brother. "Taking precautions. There wasn't any salt lining anything when I came to get you, dude."

Sam shrugged. "Don't know."

Dean eyed him for a moment, frowning at the way Sam shifted slightly in his chair. He could tell that Sam wasn't comfortable with talking about this. He could respect that. "Finish your breakfast, Sam. Then we'll get you your meds."

"Not hungry." Sam said softy. He toyed with his fork, spinning it slowly in his fingers.

"You need to eat, Sam."

Sam shook his head stubbornly and dropped the fork back onto the table.

"Sam," Dean left his perch by the counter and crouched down next to his brother, gripping Sam's chin and tipping his head so that he could look into Sam's eyes. "Hey, what is it?"

"I don't want to…" Sam trailed off swallowing hard and closed his good eye.

"Don't want to what?"

"Don't want to go back to Stanford, Dean. If things work out with me needing…" He trailed off again his hands lifting to clasp onto Dean's wrists. "I don't want to be alone, Dean."

"You won't be alone, Sammy. You've still got friends at Stanford. Hell, even a few of them know what we do so you won't feel like such a freak." Dean offered Sam a small smirk, but Sam just tightened his grip on Dean's wrists.

"No, I'll be alone."

"What are you talking about, Sam?" Dean was completely out of the loop on this one. Sam had never had a problem making friends with people. Dean had no doubt that Sam would be with a group of friends in no time when he returned to school.

"You won't be there, Dean."

_There it was._ Dean gently untangled himself from Sam's grasp and grabbed Sam's shoulder, helping him to his feet. He tried to ignore the lone tear that trickled down Sam's cheek only to disappear into the corner of his mouth.

Dean gently pushed Sam's walking stick into his hands and placed a hand at the small of Sam's back, gently pushing him forward before letting his hand fall to his side once more. He followed Sam through the living area and down the hall to the bedroom. The two brothers entered the shared room and Dean shut the door behind them.

Sam stumbled his way to his bed and sat down on the edge, letting the walking stick fall from his hand with a clatter. Dean followed him and sat on his own bed, their knees almost touching as the brothers faced each other.

"I'd never be far, Sam." Dean finally said quietly locking his gaze on his legs.

"Wouldn't be the same."

Dean shook his head, agreeing to what Sam meant. No it wouldn't be the same without Sam by his side, bitching about his choice of music as they sped down the interstate. It wouldn't be the same to be on a hunt and Sam not being there to back him up. It would be like missing a part of himself and would be painful as hell. He had done it before, so he knew he could do it if it came down to that, still it didn't mean he wanted to.

"No, but I'd never be more than a phone call away."

Sam shook his head. "No."

"Sam," Dean began but was abruptly cut off when Sam lifted his head and his good eye glared at him.

"No! I don't want that, Dean."

"Then what do you want?" Dean asked knowing that whatever Sam wanted he would go along with. He could never deny Sam anything.

"I want to finish this, Dean. I want to find that yellow eyed son of a bitch."

"We will, Sam. We'll find him."

"Dean," Sam focused to open his right eye as well as he lifted his gaze so he could see the faint fuzzy outlines of his brother's body. "If I have to have glasses…"

"Sam, honestly I don't think it will change anything. Other than the fact that you will look even more like a college geek boy." Dean grinned and relaxed when Sam matched it with one of his own.

"Thanks, Dean."

"Sam, having glasses won't mean that you are any less of a hunter. It's not like it will stop you from shooting a gun and occasionally saving my ass."

"Occasionally?"

"Dude, I save your ass a hell of a lot more than you save mine."

"Not my fault."

"No you just have some freaky supernatural mojo that attracts everything we hunt." Dean grumbled.

"Yeah well you take stupid risks. Not to mention your smart ass mouth gets you in loads of trouble."

"What can I say? Girls dig me."

"That's not the kind of trouble I was talking about, Dean." Sam groaned.

"Well I wouldn't agree with that one, Sammy boy. There was this one girl in Mesquite…" Dean trailed off shuddering at the memory.

"Dean…" Sam shook his head but couldn't hide the grin that snaked its way across his face. Dean smiled himself as Sam actually seemed to relax for a minute.

"Sam, seriously…. Do you think having glasses will change you as a hunter?"

Sam frowned and let his eyes drop down to his lap, his hands twisting together. "I don't know."

"Sam, you remember that book I was supposed to read for school…I don't know something about a black guy and a lawyer."

"To Kill A Mockingbird? Yeah I remember it." He suddenly got an amused look on his face. "Why do _you_ remember it?"

"I don't, I never read the whole thing. You did and told me about it."

Sam laughed.

"Anyway you remember when the Dad, uh, Athens, Angus, Ad…"

"Atticus."

"Yeah right, him. Well, he wore glasses."

"So?"

"Well when it was necessary he could still shoot. Having glasses didn't make him any less of a good shot."

"Dean, he tossed his glasses aside and ended up breaking them."

"See, he wore glasses and didn't even need them to shoot that mangy mutt."

Sam shook his head. "Dean, you know that didn't really happen right? It's a fictional story."

Dean rolled his eyes. "I'm not dumb, Sam. But it just goes to show that when you set your mind to something nothing can stop you."

"Dean…"

"Sam, listen to me. You are probably the most stubborn bastard I have ever met."

Sam opened his mouth to comment but Dean cut him off.

"Let me finish. You have always known what you wanted and you go for it, no matter what the odds against you are. I don't see this as any different."

"But."

"Sam, if you want to stop hunting because of this, that's fine. I won't stop you and I won't come drag you back into it. But if you really don't want to stop hunting, if this is really what you want then I'll stick with you on this. We'll get you through this. Doesn't matter how long it takes."

"Thanks, Dean." Sam lifted a hand to rub at his slightly burning eyes.

"Let's get you your meds."

Sam allowed Dean to help him lie down on the bed. Dean sat on the edge of the bed and opened up one of the prescription bottles, pulling out the eye drops. He gently pulled back Sam's right eyelid and squeezed a few drops into it before releasing the lid and rubbing it for a minute.

Sam was getting used to the rough sensation of Dean's calloused fingers rubbing against his eyelid now and felt himself relaxing as Dean worked the medicine around his eye. After a minute Dean lifted Sam's other eyelid and repeated the process.

"I really wish you had eaten more, Sammy." Dean said quietly as he pulled away from Sam's eyes and popped open the second prescription bottle. He palmed one of the horse pills and rose from the bed.

"Wasn't hungry."

"Uh huh, I believe that." Dean mumbled as he left the room to go get a water glass for his brother.

Sam kept his eyes closed and listened to the sound of Dean's footfalls disappearing down the hall. He could feel himself drifting, not realizing that he had been so tired. But now that he was lying down and the ache in his head and the burning in his eyes were receding the weariness pulled at him.

"Sam?"

Sam jumped. He hadn't even heard Dean come back into the room. He felt the bed shift as Dean sat down on the edge once more. Then Dean's hand slipped under his neck and gently elevated Sam's head.

Sam accepted the pill and water Dean put into his mouth. Swallowing quickly because he remembered all too clearly the last time he had left the sour tasting pill on his tongue. Dean lowered Sam's head back onto the pillow and got off the bed.

"Get some sleep, Sammy."

Sam didn't need to be told twice. He was already breathing deeply by the time Dean had exited the room and was pulling the door closed behind him.

***  
Jenni caught a small fraction of the brothers' conversation before the door to their bedroom was shut and their voices were muffled. She caught the general drift of the conversation, and wished she could help in some way. Although it really wasn't up to her. She knew that the brothers had to work this out for themselves.

Still it seemed odd that a little thing like glasses could make Sam want to put this whole life behind him. If anything should have it would have been the potential danger, or even being wanted by the police. Jenni was still waiting for a full explanation on that one. Dean had said he had been accused of committing a murder in St. Louis, but he never had gotten around to explaining how the cops had come to the conclusion.

But what really floored Jenni is how the cops found them at the hospital in the first place. The only real explanation was that someone had ratted them out. Jenni wouldn't put it past Kory to do so if she had the chance, but she was unsure of how she had found out who they were. Dean and Sam were almost inseparable. The only time they had been apart at all were for brief tests, in which Dean would wait for Sam in the room, or when Jenni had asked Dean to…

_Shit._ This was her fault. She was the reason that the brothers had been found out. She had let Kory's hot air get to her and as a result Sam and Dean were back on the radar and in serious trouble. So was she for that matter. The reality of the situation was weighing down on Jenni now.

How could she possibly get out of this? Better yet how could she get the brothers out of this? It didn't seem fair that because of her own stupid inability to handle how Kory made her feel that these two had to suffer for it. She would make sure that the brothers made it out of here safely once Sam was fit enough to travel without the risk of setbacks in his recovery.

Keeping her job might be a little riskier, especially after she had clobbered Kory. That was bound to have been reported to Mr. Andrews, and probably the media crew. Kory was one for the spotlight after all. So if she had the chance Jenni was sure that she would flaunt her battle scars for the world to see. Jenni regretted that now, if she had had more time she would have gotten a few more hits to the face and a few less to the stomach.

She smirked as she thought of this. Kory really had pushed far too many buttons if Jenni still wanted to inflict more damage to her. She was seriously tempted to call up and speak to Mr. Andrews about Kory spewing private patient confidentiality. Of course now that Jenni was wanted by the police any call could be traced. She would have to be as far away from this place as she could when she called in. Otherwise she could lead the police straight to them.

She had bought the small log cabin under her mother's maiden name. She referred to her last mother's maiden name around these parts, and no one around here had ever questioned it. As far as they knew Jennifer Beckstead was a quiet nurse from the northern part of the state who visited once or twice a year. They never thought twice about her visits, and only saw her when she slipped down to the pub for a pint or two.

For most of the year, the cabin remained inhabited, with only the full time housekeeper coming and going, making sure the place stayed in a fair condition. Whenever Jenni came down for a visit the housekeeper was given time off as Jenni would take care of the cleaning herself. Jenni liked it that way, it kept the cabin clean while she was away and she kept her privacy when she was in town. The housekeeper would simply drive by and if a car was in the drive she knew not to bother until Jenni had gone.

Still Jenni worried a bit. The impala was a car that the housekeeper hadn't seen before and would think was strange. In fact Jenni knew that most people would think it odd that a strange black car was now parked in her drive. Jenni had always driven her mustang, taking great pride in being outside making sure it was cleaned after a heavy storm. If suspicions rose it could lead to a call to the police. Which is something that none of them needed right now. She just hoped that Bill would spread the word that Jenni was indeed down for a visit among his usual customers and the suspicions would be kept to a minimum. Rumors would certainly fly but those could always be handled and guided where Jenni wanted them to be, police could not.

Jenni looked up as a soft knock sounded at the door and Dean pushed open the door a crack. He slipped his head into the room and craned his neck to look at her.

"Hi, Dean."

"You're still awake."

"Yeah, not really that tired. Come in."

Dean hesitated a moment and then let himself into the room, keeping the door open and sending one last glance over his shoulder towards the brothers' shared room. He settled on the edge of Jenni's bed, studying the young nurse quietly.

"Dean, can I ask you something?"

Dean took in a deep breath, he could sense the tension that was coursing through Jenni's body and it made him on edge. "Of course."

"What happened in St. Louis? Why were you accused of murdering someone?"

Dean rubbed a hand through his hair before letting it fall back to his lap. "It's a long story, Jen."

"I want to know, Dean."

"Do you know what a shape shifter is?"

"Isn't it some kind of Indian legend?"

Dean smiled. "Actually every culture in the world has a shape shifter lore. There are legends of creatures who can transform themselves into animals or other men."

"Ok."

"Well we ran into one in St. Louis. It was getting its kicks out of torturing and murdering women."

"How did you even find out about this?"

"This is our job, Jen. Although we had a heads up from Sam's friend Becky with this one. Her brother had been accused of his girlfriend's murder…"

Jenni listened intently while Dean reenacted the accounts of the shape shifter hunt. Her eyes were wide by the time Dean had reached the conversation he had had with Sam as they had driven out of town.

"So the shape shifter died wearing your face?"

"Yeah."

"Why didn't you…?" Jenni trailed off knowing how ludicrous the question was before it was even finished. How would Dean explain something like that?

"Be kind of hard to explain my dead body to the police." Dean smirked.

"So why aren't you still dead?"

Dean shrugged. "Things come up, we lay as low as we can with what we do, but things don't always work that way."

"Dean, how in the hell did they find you out?"

"Honestly? I don't know. I'm thinking that someone went searching through Sam's things. Found that the names didn't match."

"What do you mean names?"

"Jenni, our life is complicated. It's hard to…"

"Dean, I want to know what is going on. Why wouldn't your names match?"

"We don't exactly get paid for what we do, Jen."

"So what? You come up with phony ways in which to get money?"

"We have to do something. We can live out of the car but it isn't all that comfortable. Going around killing ghosts and demons doesn't put fuel in our car or food in our bellies. And when the day is done the last thing we want to do is curl up in the backseat of the impala. We still need to buy ammunition for the guns, and salt and lighter fluid for burning corpses to take care of vengeful spirits. These things don't come free."

"No, I suppose not. So what do you do for money?"

Dean frowned, he wasn't sure how Jenni would handle that bit of information. "Jenni, I don't think…"

"Dean, I'm not going to turn you in. I promise. I've come this far with you and I see no reason to back out now."

"Jen, you know I wouldn't think that…"

"Let me guess, fake insurance information?"

Dean shook his head. "What?"

"Well that would probably be the fastest way that the hospital would find out who you are. So fake insurance, accompanied by fake credit cards probably, right?"

"Jenni, don't."

Jenni eyed Dean for a minute. "Dean you said it yourself, you have to get money for things somehow."

"Can we just drop this, please?"

"Sure, Dean. I'm sorry."

Dean nodded briefly before scratching at the back of his neck awkwardly. "The bigger problem is getting you out of this, Jenni."

Jenni laughed. "Dean, I'm probably in this just as deep as you are. Sneaking out a fugitive, knocking out a guard, and assaulting a nurse. Don't think we are going to find a simple solution to just get me out of this."

"Can I ask you something?"

Jenni cocked her head, puzzled. "Of course."

"Why didn't you turn me in? You barely know us."

Jenni stared at Dean as if he had grown an extra head. "You said you didn't do it, Dean. I believe you."

"Jenni, for all you know you could be sitting next to a serial killer here. I could have killed all those girls and told you that I didn't."

"And yet, Dean. You have yet to make one move to hurt me. God knows you've had plenty of opportunities. If you had really wanted to kill me you could have done so when I asked you to take me home. Or you could have skipped out on taking me home and murdered me out in the middle of nowhere. Then gone back to collect your brother, saying that I was in no condition to come back to work after what Kory said to me. No one would have even come looking for me for a couple days at least."

"I guess."

"Dean, when I asked you to take me home you did so readily. You stayed with me when I needed someone to be there. You got my mind off of it by playing pool and by…well, you know." Jenni's face flushed scarlet as Dean grinned at her. "Dean, I don't know how many people you've been with in your career. You are certainly a charmer, and not to mention a shameless flirt."

"What can I say? Women dig me."

"Yeah well you certainly don't try to hold back on that. In fact you encourage them anyway you can. When I saw you at the hospital for the first time you were so worried about your brother that I could have walked around the room naked and I doubt you would have noticed."

"A naked nurse walking around the room? I'm sure I would have noticed."

"Dean, you only had eyes for Sam because you were so worried on what was going to happen to him. After a few days, when you knew Sam would be injured but could recover you seemed to ease up. That was when you started flirting with me."

"You can't say you didn't enjoy it."

"Actually at first, I didn't." Jenni watched as Dean's face crumpled up in confusion. "Dean, it had nothing to do with you. You see when Todd took me back to his place after he had drugged me…well, I'd never been with someone before that."

Dean held his breath once again wishing he could meet the creep. He'd introduce the guy to his right hook just on principle alone.

"I didn't want to go through that again. I didn't really enjoy it with him. And after, well with what resulted because of that…I wasn't in a hurry to be hit on by strange men."

"Jenni," Dean started but Jenni held up her hand to silence him.

"Dean, I'm glad you did. I'm glad that we got as close as we did. You coming into my life right now was probably the best thing for me. You got me over my fear of men and showed me that not all guys are assholes." Jenni scooted closer to Dean on the bed, laying a hand on one of his legs. Dean covered it with one of his own. "Dean, you've given me everything I could possibly want in life. You've given me self-confidence and strength. You've supported me and helped me out when I needed it. And between you and Sam I had the guts to face Kory in the hall and knock her on her ass. I would have never done that before. That's why I helped you. That's why I've risked everything to get you guys out of there. Because without you I'd still be trapped somewhere in the back of my mind. Terrified of everyone who came close to me and willing to put up with the crap Kory would dump on me."

"Jenni, you would have shut her up eventually."

"In a few years maybe. Honestly, I have no idea how long it would have taken me to find the courage." Jenni's hand slipped up Dean's leg and slid under his shirt, gently running over the flesh just above his waistband.

Dean's back arched in response to Jenni's touch and he instinctively leaned forward, letting his forehead meet Jenni's.

"Thank you." Jenni whispered lifting her head slightly to brush her lips against Dean's.

Dean closed his eyes and sighed. "Your welcome." He moaned as Jenni leaned up against him, one hand pushing against his belly, forcing him onto his back while the other reached for his belt.

She leaned over him, crushing him to the bed, using her own body as a weight. Dean lifted his arms and wrapped them around Jenni's back, pulling her closer. Their lips brushed at first before locking, their tongues exploring. Every minute or so they would break apart gasping for air and staring into the other's eyes.

Dean's hands slipped under Jenni's shirt and rubbed the soft skin at the small of her back, while Jenni wrestled with getting Dean's button up shirt off his shoulders. She wasn't doing a very good job since she was otherwise occupied, her lips moving up the side of Dean's face until she found his ear. She nipped at it and Dean groaned before rolling over, pinning her to the bed.

He managed to shed his shirts, with Jenni assisting. Both were panting as Dean leaned over her again, kissing her lips gently. Jenni moaned and closed her eyes, her neck arching slightly as Dean's lips worked over her chin and down to her collarbone.

"You sure?" Dean breathed as he kissed the base of Jenni's neck.

Unable to do much more than moan Jenni nodded. Dean smiled and resumed the teasing of her neck. He grasped the sides of Jenni's shirt and tugged. It split right down the middle, a few buttons popping loose and getting lost in the comforter.

With incredibly gentle hands, Dean scooped Jenni up and lifted her to the head of the bed before laying her back onto the pillows. Jenni eyed him hungrily and reached for the clasp on his jeans. Dean was only too happy to help her rid him of those, they fell to the floor in a heap. Dean once again rolled them over, Jenni now lying on his stomach. Her short blonde locks fell around his face and tickled his skin. She leaned in and kissed him, refusing to let him go this time. Dean sucked in bits of oxygen through the sides of his mouth wondering how Jenni couldn't be straining for air. Jenni pulled away after a minute panting. She reached back for the comforter and pulled it over her shoulders.

Dean pulled her back down again and kissed the tip of her chin. Jenni moaned and pulled her head up, exposing her delicate neck. Dean kissed that instead, his hands wrapped around her back and gently caressed her skin.

"You know those knock out pills only work for so long, Dean." Jenni moaned. She pulled back and looked at Dean, chewing her lip. "Sam won't sleep forever."

"Guess we'll have to make due with the time we have." Dean grinned wickedly and flipped them both. Jenni giggled as she hit the pillows and both of them disappeared under the comforter.


	32. Chapter 32

A/N: I know I was going to try and get these next few chapters up a couple days ago but the week was much harder than I had anticipated. Thanks for understanding about that – for the continued support and reviews. I have the whole week off so I'm going to try to finish post this story then.

Chapter 32

The room was quiet when consciousness found its way back to him. Dean groaned softly and rolled onto his back, squinting as the sun's bright rays hit him in the face from the slightly parted window curtains. He looked around the room slowly, scanning for any signs of Jenni.

The master bathroom door was open, and the lights were off. Jenni's bathrobe was missing from the back of the desk chair, but her clothes were still in a heap on the floor where Dean had tossed them after tearing them off her the night before. He even spotted one of the wayward buttons that had rolled to the far wall next to the desk leg.

Dean frowned and glanced at his wristwatch, his eyes popped a little when he saw the time. He pushed himself up into a sitting position and untangled his legs from the bed sheets. He shivered a little as a cool draft breezed across his bare skin.

He found his boxers at the side of the bed but had to suppress a smirk when he saw his jeans had been tossed across the room and were dangling on the edge of the desk chair. He pushed himself to his feet and padded across the soft carpet to the desk and pulled on his jeans. He winced as a slight twinge started in his right shoulder and he rubbed at it gingerly, surprised when he found a few slight grooves in his otherwise smooth skin.

He frowned; he wasn't sure where he had gotten those. He picked up his crumpled and tangled shirts and slung them over his arm and made his way to the door. He looked up and down the hallway, picking up the soft sounds of voices coming from the opposite side of the cabin. A quick glance in the direction of the bedroom that he was sharing with Sam told Dean that his brother was already up.

The sweet smells of frying bacon and fresh coffee enticed him to hurry into the brothers' bedroom and yank on a loose fitting t-shirt. He clenched his jaw as the material brushed against his sore shoulder and once again fingered the spot that was causing him so much trouble. He'd have to get a better look at it later when he went in to take a shower.

He padded down the hall quietly listening to the silent murmurings of the distant voices. As he entered the living area he was surprised to see a blanket draped over the couch along with a pillow and a book discarded on the floor. The small TV was on, although muted, and the fuzzy picture was jumping about the screen. From what he could make out it appeared to be the news.

He watched the muted TV for a minute before the jumping picture drove him crazy, and not seeing anything of too much interest, he turned and headed towards the kitchen. He paused in the doorway, leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossing over his chest and his legs crossing at the ankles. His eyes darted between the room's two occupants.

Sam was sitting at the table, elbows resting on the tabletop and his palms pressed against his eyes. His long legs were wrapped around the legs of the chair he was sitting on.

On the opposite side of the kitchen, working at the stove and clad in her bathrobe, was Jenni. She was flipping over a few pieces of bacon while hot coffee was pouring into the coffee pot on the coffee maker. A moment later the toaster popped out a couple pieces of slightly overdone toast.

"Sam, did you want butter or jelly on your toast?" Jenni tapped the fork she was using to turn the bacon against the edge of the pan before setting it down on the counter and retrieving the toast, placing them on one of the empty plates sitting next to the sink.

Sam, however, wasn't paying attention. He had turned his head slightly and had dropped his hands to the table. "Dean?"

Jenni turned, surprised, but offered Dean a warm smile before turning back to the toaster and pushing a few more slices of bread into it.

"Hey, Sammy." Dean pushed away from the doorframe and straddled one of the chairs, sitting just close enough that his knee brushed against Sam's.

"Mornin', Dean. You hungry?"

Sam snorted and lifted his right hand to push it against his eye again. "You're asking the bottomless pit?"

"Sam, you're hurting me." Dean feigned a hurt look as he placed a hand on his chest. He winked at Jenni and she chuckled as she set Sam's toast in front of the blind hunter.

"You sure that's all you want, Sam?"

"Yeah, toast is great. Thanks." Sam's long fingers fumbled around on the table until he found the plate's edge. He pulled it a bit closer and leaned forward as he found the first slice of toast.

Dean watched his brother begin to pick at his breakfast, tearing the toast into little bits, all of them finding their way onto the tabletop or back onto the plate. He frowned when Sam pushed the plate away a minute later, not having eaten one bite. "Sam, eat your breakfast."

Jenni looked over her shoulder from her position at the stove as she slid the cooked bacon strips onto a plate next to a pile of scrambled eggs.

"Sam."

Sam jerked a little before picking up one of the torn pieces of toast and putting it in his mouth. It tasted like cotton. He chewed it slowly before finally swallowing it, finding the small task exceedingly difficult.

"Sam, did you want something else instead?" Jenni offered as she poured coffee into three mugs. She spooned some sugar into one of the coffee mugs and set it down in front of Sam.

Sam shook his head and lowered his head to rest it against the cool tabletop.

"Sam? What is it? Headache again?"

"Bad one." Sam agreed not lifting his head.

Dean shot Jenni a concerned look. She returned it and grabbed the Advil bottle from the counter top. She shook out a couple and handed them to Dean who pushed them into Sam's hand.

"Take those, dude."

Sam lifted the pills to his mouth with a shaky hand. Dean pushed the coffee mug that Jenni had set before his brother into Sam's other hand and helped Sam lift it, keeping it steady enough that Sam could drink some of it without sloshing the hot liquid down his chin.

"Are the headaches getting worse, Sam?" Jenni asked sitting down in one of the remaining vacant chairs.

"Sometimes." Sam muttered. He ran a trembling hand through his tangled locks.

"Is it worse when you have the gauze pads off or on?"

"Off."

Jenni locked gazes with Dean for a moment before pushing to her feet. "Dean, can I speak with you for a minute please?"

Dean nodded and got to his feet. He clapped a hand down on Sam's shoulder, making the younger sibling jump. "You be ok for a minute, dude?"

Sam nodded wearily and tightened his fingers around his coffee mug.

Dean followed Jenni out the back door and onto the patio, shutting the door firmly behind him.

"Dean, Sam's getting worse."

Dean glanced through the glass panel toward his brother, nodding slightly in agreement. "I know that. But what can we do?"

"Dean, he needs to see a doctor, a specialist. I'm not qualified to give him the kind of help he needs."

Dean shook his head. "It's too risky right now. The police are on our trail. We can't risk it."

"Dean, we are talking about Sam's health here."

"Don't you think I know that, Jenni? He's my brother for God's sake! Do you think I like seeing him like this?"

"Of course not. But you are so obsessed with getting caught by the cops that you aren't focusing on anything else, Dean. You are so sure that I can help Sam. But honestly I have no idea what I can do to help him. He needs to get glasses and you can't just pick up a pair without getting a prescription. Anything else could have serious repercussions and would be more damaging than helpful for Sam."

"So what do you suggest?"

"We go see an eye doctor up in Batesville. You have aliases, right?"

"Yeah, but Jenni maybe you haven't noticed…our pictures are pasted all over the news. Even with our aliases it is too risky. I'm pretty sure that the news is played in Batesville."

"What about an out of state doctor? Would that work better?"

"It'd be more preferable, yes."

"Let me see what I can dig up then. Sam can't go on like this much longer, Dean. The longer he goes without having a professional looking at him the more damaging it can be for him."

"Fine, you find an out of state doctor. One that isn't going to turn us in the moment he sees us and we'll talk."

"I know of one. It's in Baton Rouge, Louisiana."

Dean stared at her dubiously, his lips pursed slightly.

"Look, Dean. This isn't ideal, I know that, but Sam needs help and this way he can get it. We can take him to a place where our pictures haven't been pasted all over the windows. We can head down there today; stay in a motel for the night, and go see the doctor tomorrow if she has any appointments open. The sooner we get help for Sam the better."

"How far away is this place?"

"About six hours, give or take."

"So even if we left now we wouldn't get down there until about six?"

"I doubt that we'll be able to drive right through, Dean. Sam may not be willing to admit it but he's in a lot of pain right now, so you'd need to take into account the stops we'd have to make so we can medicate as needed. Pit stops, coffee breaks…whatever you guys want. Either way it is probably going to be about a six and a half to seven hour drive."

"Have you talked to Sam about this?"

"A bit."

"What did you tell him?"

"Well once I convinced him that they stopped making the coke bottle glasses he seemed a little more optimistic about the whole thing. He seemed more worried about getting caught than anything. You two really do think alike."

Dean smirked and scratched the back of his neck. "Ok, well if you really think this is best for Sam."

"It is, Dean."

"Let's get cleaned up and head out then."

***  
The trip down to Baton Rouge was long, just as Jenni had predicted. Thanks to the agonizing burning in Sam's eyes the trio was forced to make several stops to aid the young hunter. Halfway through the trip found Dean tense and on edge, Jenni was humming softly under her breath from the passenger seat, while Sam was sprawled out on the backseat, fast asleep.

Dean glanced in the rearview mirror at his brother's sleeping form. Sam's eyes were hidden under large gauze patches and they were held in place with a long gauze strip that wrapped around his head. He had one arm resting on his chest while the other had fallen onto the floor of the impala.

"Dean?" Jenni stopped humming along with Foreigner's _Heart Turns to Stone_ as she took in Dean's clenched jaw and white knuckles. "You ok?"

Dean looked at her briefly and nodded once before turning back to look at the road.

"You need another break?"

Dean shook his head and lifted a hand to rub the back of his tense neck. "No, I'm ok."

Jenni frowned but didn't push the issue. "There is a Days Inn motel on Gwenadele Avenue. We can stay there."

Dean nodded and turned onto the directed street. The black classic growled as her tires ground away on the asphalt.

It was almost half an hour before they found the Days Inn sign and Dean turned into the lot, pulling right in front of the office.

"Stay here, I'll go get us a room." Jenni said pushing open the passenger side door and grabbing her purse from the floor. She paused, scanning the contents of her purse for some cash.

"Jenni, you don't need to pay." Dean reached back to retrieve his wallet but Jenni waved him off.

"Don't worry about it, Dean." Jenni removed a large wad of bills and exited the car, disappearing into the office.

Dean grunted and turned in his seat so he could see his brother better. He smacked Sam's arm, making the younger hunter jerk awake. "Rise and shine, Sammy."

Sam groaned and pressed a hand to his bandaged eyes. "We there already?"

"We've been on the road for almost eight hours, Sam."

"Huh." Sam sat up slowly, moaning as his right eye started to burn. He rubbed against the bandages trying to ease the ache there, but to no avail.

Dean turned back towards the office, just as Jenni emerged holding a room key. She skittered around the front of the impala, her bright red face illuminated by the headlights.

She pulled open the door and muttered something before sinking down onto the passenger seat. Dean looked at her for a moment, his lips pulling up into a smile.

"Room 112." Jenni dropped the key onto the seat and stared out the window into the black night and the few scattered cars that littered the parking lot.

Dean pulled the impala into reverse and drove further down the motel structure pulling into a space as close to their room as he could get before he killed the idling engine.

Jenni didn't wait for either of the brothers but headed around to the trunk, wrapping her arms around her torso and hugging herself tightly as a cool breeze danced across her skin. Dean helped Sam out of the car and guided his brother around to the trunk, keying it open and shouldering both brothers' duffels.

Jenni grabbed her pack and lead the way to their room. She slid the key into the lock and shoved it open with her shoulder.

The room had one king sized bed and a single sofa. Dean raised a questioning eyebrow but Jenni held up a hand silencing him before he was even able to form the question.

"Don't ask. Apparently they have a big convention or something going on here tomorrow and all the rooms with double beds have been booked. We were lucky to get this." Jenni hefted her pack a little and wrapped her hand around the shoulder strap to stop it from digging into her shoulder. She waited for Dean and Sam to enter the room before closing and locking the door behind them. She dumped her bag onto the floor next to the small desk and sat down in the chair, running a hand through her tangled hair.

Dean led Sam to the couch and pushed him onto the soft cushions. He relieved himself of the two heavy duffels before joining his brother, his shoulder barely brushing against Sam's.

"So who's going to take what?"

"I figured you and Sam could take the bed. I don't mind sleeping on the couch."

"Ok, that works." Dean pushed himself to his feet and began to dig around in his duffel. "I'm going to go take a shower. Did you ever get a hold of that lady…Dr. Whatsername?"

"Dr. Susan Jong? Yeah I did, she has an appointment set up for Sam at three tomorrow. We can get breakfast from a diner or something then hang out here until then. We'll stay here tomorrow night too and head back Friday morning."

Dean pulled out a clean pair of boxers and a dark t-shirt. He slung both over his arm and nodded. "Sounds like a plan. What've they got to eat around here?"

"There's a diner about ten minutes away from here. Lindsey's Diner, they are pretty good."

"That's fine. Right Sam?"

Sam nodded his approval and leaned his head back against the couch. Dean smirked and closed the bathroom door.

Jenni moved to the edge of the bed and turned on the TV, flipping through a few of the limited channels until she found the evening news. She watched with disinterest for a few minutes before turning to check on the youngest Winchester and smirked when she saw him slumped on the couch. He had one arm draped over his chest and his head was turned slightly to the side, and if his breathing was anything to go by he had already fallen asleep.

Jenni muted the TV and rose stealthily from the bed, pulling off the top comforter and made her way to the couch. She gently placed her hand at the back of Sam's neck and helped him to find a more comfortable position.

His long gangly legs were too big for the couch, so Jenni had to position them over the arm and draped the comforter over Sam's body. Sam barely stirred, not even when Jenni slipped a pillow under his head. Jenni turned off the lamp that sat right next to the couch, and sat on the edge of the bed. She smiled as she watched Sam shift and settle more deeply into the couch cushions.

"Guess we won't be moving you tonight will we, Sam?" Jenni said smirking. She settled herself a bit more on the bed, propping herself up on a couple of the pillows as she returned her attention to the news while waiting for Dean to emerge.

***  
Dean turned on the hot water tap, allowing the water to warm as he pulled his over shirt off his shoulders. He grabbed the back of his t-shirt and pulled that up over his head. He dropped it onto the floor next to the sink and rubbed at his slightly stinging skin just below the top of his broad shoulder. He turned slightly so he could see his back in the mirror's reflection. From what he could see he had four grooves on his back, curving around his shoulder blade, all of them ran about an inch or so before the skin smoothed out again.

It was strange that he couldn't quite place where he had gotten them, but he would bet that it had happened the night before. They were tender but not deadly. Dean ruffled his hair and pulled off his jeans and boxers and stepped into the shower cubicle.

The water by this time had heated up to a pleasant degree and greeted him with a soft pounding sensation on his head and neck. Dean lifted his chin and allowed the water to run down his face, it traced around the curves in his skin and beat against his closed eyelids. His hair was soon plastered to his head in a dark mess.

Dean leaned forward, pushing his hands against the shower wall and dropped his head forward. The water hit the back of his neck and flowed down his tanned back, Dean slowly relaxed as the hot water eased the tightness of his back muscles, a result of sitting in the car for the majority of the day.

Dean slowly reached for the provided motel soap and ran it slowly over his skin, enjoying the hot water as it worked its way down his body. He rinsed off and hurried with the motel shampoo as the water was beginning to loose its heat and he had no intentions of taking a cold shower tonight.

He stepped out of the shower a moment later and wrapped a towel around his waist, using the other to towel dry his wet hair. He didn't take long in drying off and pulled on his t-shirt and boxers, he wadded up the clothes he had worn earlier, tossed both towels onto the floor in the corner of the room and exited the bathroom.

He paused when he saw the familiar mop of dark brown hair on the couch. Sam had turned onto his stomach and had his head turned toward the back of the couch, one arm dangled off the edge and his fingers brushed the soft carpet. His breathing was soft and even as he slept soundly.

Dean turned curious eyes to Jenni, who was propped up on the bed watching the TV on a low volume.

Jenni smirked and shrugged at him. "He fell asleep a minute or so after you went in the bathroom. He's really wiped out."

Dean rubbed the back of his neck and made his way to the couch, crouching down beside it and studied his sleeping sibling for a moment in silence. He gently lifted Sam's arm and positioned it on the edge of the couch, before pulling the comforter a little higher over Sam's shoulders. He brushed a few stray locks out of Sam's eyes and let his hand rest on Sam's forehead for a moment, relieved when he felt the cool skin there.

"I don't think we should wake him tonight, Dean."

"No, he's really out of it." Dean agreed keeping his eyes on his brother.

"Uh, you don't mind sharing the bed then?"

Dean looked at Jenni and grinned. "No, I think I can handle that."

Jenni rolled her eyes. "Your brother is asleep, Dean. I don't think we should do anything."

Dean laughed and moved away from the couch. Jenni rose from the bed and wandered over to the desk and her travel bag. She pulled out a silk nightgown and walked into the bathroom.

Dean settled himself onto the left side of the bed, purposefully placing himself as close to Sam as he could. Just in case Sam needed something during the night. He watched the news, not really paying attention to it at all. He turned it off after a minute and turned off the lamp sitting on the left bedside table, sending his half of the bed into semi darkness. The only light in the room now was the lamp on the opposite side of the bed, he'd leave that on so Jenni wouldn't have to stumble around in the dark.

Jenni didn't take long in the bathroom, and emerged with her short blonde hair hanging limply about her shoulders and clad in her light blue silk nightgown. Dean watched her move, admiring the way the gown seemed to highlight her curves.

Jenni saw his intent gaze and blushed a deep scarlet. She sat on the edge of the bed and turned off the lamp, sending the room completely into darkness. Dean felt the bed shift as Jenni settled under the remaining covers on the bed.

Dean was somehow unsettled, like he was forgetting something. After sitting in the darkness for a minute he flipped on the bedside lamp and got off the bed.

Jenni opened one eye lazily and watched as Dean crouched down on the floor next to the boys' duffels. He dug around in the hunter green duffel for a minute before he stood triumphant, a large bowie knife in his hand.

Jenni's heart started to thud painfully in her chest and her lungs froze. She watched Dean turn the bowie slowly in his grip before settling back onto the bed, he fluffed up his pillow a bit, shoved the bowie under it and settled on his stomach. One hand reached out and turned off the lamp again.

The room now hidden in darkness Jenni felt herself taking in slow hesitant breaths. Beside her Dean shifted a little and settled a bit more into the mattress, his head buried in the pillow. He didn't seem aware of her sudden discomfort, or if he did, he didn't mention it.

Jenni pushed herself closer to her edge of the bed, putting as much space between them as she could. She was afraid to close her eyes. Now that it was dark in the room it was safe to assume that Dean wouldn't know that she was watching him.

Her theory proved correct when Dean's breathing soon evened out in sleep. Jenni watched the shadowed figure of Dean's sleeping form, chewing on her bottom lip and fretting silently. She had no idea why Dean had pulled out the knife, or why he had even brought it with him. It made her uncomfortable.

Still if he had wanted to hurt her, he would have. Wouldn't he? Jenni was sure that Dean would have done it by now if he had intended to her hurt with the knife. Although Jenni was certain that Sam wouldn't allow that to happen.

Jenni scolded herself for even thinking about Dean this way. She had put her career and life on the line by helping these two brothers, she didn't understand why she was questioning that now. She had trusted Dean when he said that he had not hurt those girls, there had to be another reason that he slept with a big bowie knife under his pillow.

Jenni turned onto her back, staring at the dark ceiling, her eyes blinking more and more slowly as exhaustion crept in. They started to close and she found herself drifting into the blackness that beckoned her.

On the bed beside her Dean shifted, he grunted in his sleep and turned so he was on his back. His head readjusting itself so it was in a more comfortable position on the pillow.

The movement jolted Jenni back to awareness and she opened her eyes to stare at Dean again. The soft glow of the moon barely made it into the room, but what little light it provided highlighted Dean's face.

Jenni felt herself calming when she once again saw the calmness of Dean's features as he slept. The years just seemed to slip off him, making him look the age he truly was, rather than the man who had been forced to age before his time. Jenni's eyes traced over Dean's face, lingering briefly on the faint scar on his forehead.

The soft scents of motel soap, shampoo, and what smelled suspiciously like leather filled Jenni's nostrils. She found the smells very comforting and her eyes once again drifted closed. This time they stayed that way and Jenni gave into the darkness that was calling her.

***  
Dean and Jenni were woken abruptly the next morning by Sam's cry of agony from the couch. Dean jumped up like he had sat on a hot burner and was instantly at Sam's side while Jenni rose a little slower, rubbing at sleep encrusted eyes and watching wearily while Dean began to gently unwrap the bindings around Sam's eyes while trying to soothe Sam with softly spoken words.

Sam moaned from his position on the couch, the comforter had slipped off sometime during the night and was lying in a heap on the floor, his legs were shifting systematically as Dean worked with the eye bandages.

Dean dropped the bindings on the floor and gently peeled back each of Sam's eyelids, examining the bloodshot eyes carefully before allowing them to close again.

"It's ok, Sammy. We'll get you your meds. Hang on, dude." Dean snagged one of the duffels and pulled it closer to where he was sitting.

Jenni watched, fascinated, as Dean kept one hand on Sam's chest and whispering soft assurances as he dug through the duffel, retrieving Sam's medications. He gently began to administer the overdue medicines and rewrapped Sam's eyes.

Sam had quieted once Dean had begun the medication process and his slight struggles had ceased when the burning sensation had dulled to a mild throb.

"Jenni, grab me a cup of water will ya?" Dean asked not taking his eyes off the bandages that he was wrapping around Sam's head.

Jenni rose from the bed and grabbed one of the offered cups, filling it in the bathroom sink and gave it to Dean.

Dean had palmed one of the horse pills and was slipping a hand under Sam's neck to help him sit up slightly to take it. Dean pushed the pill to Sam's lips, directing the offending pill into Sam's mouth and then lifted the cup of water to help wash it down.

Sam whimpered as the pill made its way down his throat but then quieted once again as the pill did its work and he drifted off again.

Dean lowered his brother back onto his pillow and covered him with the comforter once again. He rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand and sat back on his heels. "Holy crap."

Jenni sat back on her side of the bed, fisting her hand into the bed sheets. She watched as Dean's shoulders slowly uncoiled from the tight position they had taken when he had leapt from the bed.

Dean turned to look at her, his features tense. "He's getting worse, Jen."

"Dr. Jong will know what to do, Dean."

Dean sighed and shook his head before pushing himself to his feet. He stared down at his drugged sibling, resting a hand briefly on his forehead and nodded once in satisfaction when cool skin again met his palm. He adjusted the comforter a little better over Sam before going back and sitting on the bed, his back to Jenni.

"Dean?" Jenni leaned forward a bit and hesitantly placed a hand on Dean's shoulder.

Dean twitched slightly but didn't turn to look at her. He kept his eyes glued to the couch and his sibling.

"He'll be ok, Dean. He's getting professional help and she'll know what to do to make this more bearable for him."

Dean sighed and rubbed both hands over his face. His shoulders slumped a bit in exhaustion. He turned slightly on the bed and looked at Jenni.

Jenni frowned when she saw the dark lines hovering under Dean's bloodshot eyes and the frown lines creasing his forehead. "Dean, you need to get some more sleep."

Dean shook his head and rubbed at his bloodshot eyes again. "No, Sam might need something."

"Dean, he's drugged and sleeping for now. You should be too, you know he'd be saying the same thing to you if he could see you right now. No offense but you look like crap."

Dean smirked. "Yeah, probably." He barely stifled a yawn and settled back onto his pillow, flipping onto his stomach.

Jenni's soft blue eyes drifted along Dean's back, feeling her heart pick up a pace as the dark muscles contracted under his dark t-shirt. Dean hadn't even bother to pull the bottom sheet over him, leaving his long muscular legs bare and exposed on top of the bed.

Jenni forced herself to look away. She glanced at the offered motel alarm clock and rolled her eyes. It was only quarter after six, it was no wonder that she still felt so tired. Settling herself to a more comfortable position on the bed, Jenni pulled the bottom bed sheet over her bare legs and laid on her side, facing the handsome hunter next to her.

She was surprised to see his eyes were open and he was staring at her with an intent gaze. He blinked slowly, locking gazes with her but not speaking.

"Dean, you ok?" Jenni settled a little further under the bed sheet.

"Do you think this is a good idea, Jenni?"

"What?"

"Taking Sam to see this specialist? Are you sure he's ready for this?"

"Honestly, yes I do, Dean. Why?"

Dean shook his head and shifted his gaze to the wall. "Nothing, he just seems to be in a lot of pain is all."

Jenni reached out and squeezed Dean's bare forearm, but he pulled it out of her grasp and turned onto his back, staring blankly at the ceiling.

"Dean, his eyes are healing. It is going to be a long and painful haul for him. Because of the extent of his injuries I would've been surprised if there hadn't been any pain."

"It's too intense though, Jenni. I mean just now…it seems like it's too much pain if his eyes are really healing."

"Dr. Jong will know what to look for if there are complications, Dean."

Dean's dark jade eyes once again locked on Jenni's soft blue and he stared at her silently for a minute before finally nodding and letting his eyelids close.

"Dean?"

"Hmm?" Dean didn't bother opening his eyes.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"I want to take Sam to see Dr. Jong alone."

Dean's eyes popped back open and he glared at the young nurse. "No."

"Dean, I just think it will be safer for all of us that way."

"I'm not leaving him."

"Dean, I'm not asking you to. You can wait in the car if you want, but I just think Sam and I should do this alone."

"I promised him I wouldn't leave him alone."

"He won't be alone, Dean. I'll be there. I swear I won't let anything happen to him."

Dean pushed himself up on an elbow, elevating himself so he was a head higher than Jenni. "No, I don't like it. It's not going to happen."

"Dean, this is absolutely ridiculous." Jenni groaned rolling onto her back and closing her eyes briefly.

"No, what's ridiculous is you actually thought I'd agree to this."

"Dean, you are wanted by the police for murder. I just think it is a stupid move for you to be going into a building like this where there are bound to be security cameras everywhere."

"I hate to break it to you, Jenni, but you are wanted by the police as well. Or did you forget about your little smuggling scheme?"

"Dean, you are bound to be in the police data base. I'm not."

"You don't know that, this thing is just as risky for you as it is for me. Maybe you should stay behind, that way the cops wouldn't think you are still with us."

"Dean, this is stupid. I need to be there to talk to Dr. Jong about Sam's condition."

"I can do that just as well as you can. I've been there more than you have."

"Dean," Jenni began but Dean waved off her protest with one hand.

"Jenni, I'm not staying behind. Sam needs me there."

"If you walk in there you might as well walk into the nearest police station, barge into a cell and tell the officers to throw away the key, Dean. Sam will be fine without you for an hour. If he gets desperate you can be close by, but I just don't think it is worth the risk of you going inside with us."

"I don't like it."

"Dean, it doesn't really matter whether you like it or not. This is about what is best for Sam isn't it?"

Dean was silent for several minutes, Jenni could almost see Dean arguing internally with himself.

"Yeah." Dean finally agreed.

"Well how is it going to help Sam if you get busted and end up in jail cell? Or if all of us end up in jail cells?"

"That's not going to happen, Jenni."

"Dean, I hate to break it to you but you two kind of stand out in a crowd."

"What are you talking about?"

"Dean, siblings aren't usually as close as you and Sam are. The relationship between you is…" Jenni trailed off, unsure of how to describe the powerful bond between the brothers.

"Is?" Dean prodded smirking as he saw her shift uncomfortably on the bed.

"It's just strange to see two grown men traveling together, Dean. I'm sure that you've gotten some kind of wise ass remarks about you two?"

"People are always quick to assume that we are gay." Dean agreed.

"That's what I mean, Dean, and things like that attract attention. Attention is the last thing that any of us need right now."

"Well don't you think it would be a little strange that Sam is going in with his nurse instead of a family member? That doesn't exactly blend in well either, Jenni."

Jenni's lips pulled up in a timid smile. "I didn't tell Dr. Jong that I'm Sam's attending nurse."

"So what'd you tell her?"

"That's not important, Dean. What is important is I have a good cover story and if you try to go in with us it is going to blow it."

Dean glared at her before grunting turning away from her. "Fine, but I'm staying in the car. I don't like this, Jenni."

"I know, and I'm sorry about that. I'm not sorry that this is going to be what is best for Sam though."

"Have you talked to him about this plan of yours?" Dean didn't bother looking at her.

Jenni chewed on her bottom lip nervously for a moment before shaking her head against her pillow. "No, I was actually hoping that _you_ might help me with that."

"Oh no, sweetheart, this was _your_ idea. You are on your own with this one." Dean draped an arm over his eyes, blocking the early morning sun from his closed eyelids.

Jenni let out an irritated huff and rolled onto her back, glaring at the peeling plaster on the ceiling. _Men_.

***  
She couldn't sleep, heaven knows that she had tried, but sleep was avoiding her. After lying in bed for another hour or two, Jenni slipped quietly out of the bed. Dean's deep breathing paused momentarily, but started up again almost immediately afterward. Jenni grabbed her bag and heaved it into the bathroom with her.

She didn't take long in the shower, just spending enough time to wash the natural oils out of her hair and rid her skin of the grimy feeling that clung to it. She emerged smelling of motel soap and proceeded to getting dressed.

She chose a pale pink tank top with a navy denim jacket to go on top. She buttoned up the bottom three buttons but left the top open and slipped into her tight fitting jeans.

Jenni sighed as she turned her attention to the mirror and her mess of blonde tangles. She ran a brush through the damp hair, wincing as she caught particularly nasty knots and tugged the loose hair from her scalp. She dropped the wad into the provided trashcan along with the few locks that had gotten trapped in the brush.

She pulled her hair up into a tight ponytail. She then worked diligently for the next half hour or so, pulling, pinning, pushing, straightening, and redoing until she had finished with her hair. The finished result made her hair look like it had been tied up in a fancy braided bow. It was a bit fancy for her, but Jenni knew today she needed to look a bit fancy to fit in with her cover story.

Jenni sighed and used the hairspray to keep her hair in place and exited the bathroom.

Both brothers were still sleeping soundly. Dean had flipped onto his stomach again and had one arm hanging off the edge of the bed, trailing against the carpet. The other hand had slipped under the pillow and Jenni swallowed hard as she realized that he was probably gripping the bowie knife in his sleep.

Sam was facing the back of the couch, one of his arms in what Jenni assumed had to be a very uncomfortable position. He had his elbow hooked on his side, but his arm had fallen across his upper back. Jenni could only imagine the strain and ache that would cause when Sam woke up.

Moving stealthily across the room, Jenni stopped next to the couch. She eyed Dean on the bed cautiously for a moment before gently untangling Sam's arm and covering him with the comforter once more. Sam grunted in his sleep and pushed his face into his pillow.

Jenni stepped quietly away from the couch and made her way to the desk. She checked her money stash and satisfied that she had enough she snatched her purse and the room key from the desk before quietly slipping out the door and into the early morning air.


	33. Chapter 33

A/N: Hey guys, like I said I'm going to try and post the rest of this story this week while I have the time. So I'll be posting one chapter a day – but they are much longer than the rest of them have been. I will be back tomorrow with another chapter, thanks again for the support and reviews.

Chapter 33

A soft thump at the door woke him from a deep sleep. Dean opened his eyes slowly and tightened the grip around his bowie, pushing up slowly onto his elbows, listening intently. A quick glance at the couch told Dean that the noise had woken Sam as well and that Sam was just as tense as he was.

The thump sounded again, almost as if someone was kicking at the door. Dean looked over his shoulder to check on Jenni and was surprised to see her absent. He rose from the bed, taking the bowie with him, and made his way slowly to the door. He laid a reassuring hand on Sam's shoulder as he passed him.

A third thump sounded at the door along with a muffled voice.

"Dean?"

Dean sighed and unlocked the motel door, opening it to reveal Jenni burdened with several bags and a cardboard cup holder. She was having a hard time trying to keep hold of all the bags and balance the cup holder while sticking the key in the door.

"Help me out?" Jenni asked just as the cup holder tipped.

Dean grabbed it, stopping its decent to the pavement. He stepped aside as Jenni entered the room and dumped the bags on the small desk. She sighed and stretched out her aching fingers. "Thanks."

Dean kicked the door shut and set the cup holder next to the bags, he ran a hand through his sleep rumpled hair and nodded at the small nurse.

"I brought breakfast, figured you guys might be hungry." Jenni opened one of the bags and pulled out a large plastic container. "I got you the special, Dean. Hope that's ok."

Dean wrinkled his nose and lifted the lid a little apprehensively. As soon as he saw the contents, however, he was grinning. The diner special had a combination of scrambled eggs, hash browns, bacon, two hotcakes with a small side of syrup, and a couple side strawberries.

Jenni pulled out the last two containers and looked nervously at Sam. He was sitting up on the couch, holding his head in his hands and rubbing at his temples.

Dean followed her gaze, and without missing a beat had the Advil out of the first aid kit and was handing them to his brother along with one of the cups of coffee that Jenni had brought back with her.

"How bad is it?" Dean asked keeping a hand on Sam's shoulder while Sam popped the pills and took a small sip of the warm coffee.

"Bad." Sam whispered. He rubbed at his forehead trying to help ease the ache while he waited for the medicine to work.

Dean shot Jenni a worried look and clamped his fingers tighter around Sam's shoulder. "You think you can eat something, Sam?"

Sam shook his head.

"Sam, you need to eat. You barely ate anything yesterday." Dean argued.

"I can't right now, Dean."

"Dean's right, Sam." Jenni said pulling the lid off one of the remaining containers and opening a small packet containing a plastic knife and fork. "I got you something simple." She offered the container and fork to Dean who took a seat next to his brother and eyed the food with a disgusted look.

Jenni had selected some dry toast, a small cup of pink yogurt that came with a side of crushed granola, and a large bowl of various fruit. It was right up Sam's alley.

"Come on, Sam." Dean placed the container on Sam's lap and grabbed Sam's hand, pushing the fork into it.

"Dean, please." Sam said quietly as he dropped his other hand from his forehead.

"Fruit is right here," Dean said moving Sam's hand to the fruit bowl, ignoring his protests. "Yogurt is here, and toast here."

Sam dropped his fork onto the container, and lifted both hands to his forehead again, letting out a soft moan when a particularly nasty wave of pain hit him.

Jenni gave Dean a worried look over her shoulder but Dean just shook his head at her. She returned to opening the third container sat at the table with own breakfast. She grabbed one of the remaining coffees from the cup holder and passed that over to Dean as well as his breakfast.

Dean nodded his thanks to her and broke the seal, taking a small sip of the black brew. He picked up a forkful of eggs and watched Sam rub at his forehead with his long fingers.

"Eat, Sam." Dean demanded, shoving the eggs into his mouth.

Sam pushed out his bottom lip and dropped his hands away from his forehead. "Dean, please?"

"Put the puppy dog lip away, Sam. It isn't going to work. You barely touched your breakfast yesterday and only had half a hamburger for lunch. That isn't enough, if you expect to heal and get better you are going to need to get your strength and energy up. So eat."

Sam pouted but lifted a hand to the edge of his plastic take away tray and searched for his fork. The tray tipped as he shifted his hand around the precariously balanced tray, but Dean grabbed it, stopping it mid fall. He quietly lifted the fork and placed it in Sam's hands, then showed him once again where each item on his tray was.

Sam started with the yogurt and granola cup, taking small hesitant bites. Dean frowned at his brother as he picked up one of his bacon strips.

"Sam, eat it don't play with it."

Jenni looked up from her breakfast of hash browns and eggs, watching the brothers quietly for a minute before returning to her breakfast.

"I'm really not that hungry, Dean." Sam said under his breath.

"Too bad, Jenni was nice enough to get it so you are going to eat it." Dean pulled Sam's fork from his fingers and speared a couple of pineapples, honeydew, and strawberries onto the end of it. He shoved the fork back into Sam's hand. "Eat that or I'll force feed it to you."

Sam slowly picked off the fruit, one piece at a time.

Jenni swallowed her mouthful of eggs and took a sip of coffee. She watched the two brothers for a moment before she set her plate and coffee down on the table. "Sam, listen – I've uh, talked to Dean about this and…"

Sam lifted his head to stare blankly ahead while Dean dropped his fork and frowned at her.

"…well, I think it's best if Dean doesn't come inside to see the specialist with us."

Sam's eyebrows rose in surprise and he turned his head as Dean shifted beside him. "You don't want to come with me?"

"No, that's not it, Sam." Dean shot a glare in Jenni's direction as he turned to face his brother head on. "This is Jenni's idea, not mine. I'm not at all happy with it."

"Why don't you want him to come?"

"Sam, I just think with the police after us, Dean especially, it is just too risky for him to be inside this building where there are bound to be security cameras everywhere. He won't be far, he said he would wait out in the car for us."

Sam began to shake his head and shoved his plate away from him. Before Dean could move to grab it had already clattered to the floor. Bits of fruit, drops of yogurt, and granola bits scattered about the carpet. "No, I don't want to do this without Dean."

"Sam, be reasonable." Jenni said falling to her knees so she could start cleaning up the mess.

"Sam, if you don't want to do this, I won't make you." Dean placed a hand on his brother's trembling shoulder.

Sam continued to shake his head and pressed into his brother.

"Sam," Jenni got to her feet and headed to the bathroom to grab a washcloth. She wetted it and returned, once again stooping and scrubbing at the carpet to get the splattered yogurt drops off before they dried. "Think about this, what good is it going to do any of us if we get recognized and caught? What good is Dean going to be to you if he ends up in a prison cell?"

Dean felt Sam stiffen under his palm. He squeezed his brother's shoulder gently and turned towards Jenni, shooting her a cold look while clenching and unclenching his jaw. "Jenni, that's enough."

"Dean…" Sam breathed his hands balled up into fists.

"I'm just saying that we need to face the reality that we could get caught. I told Dean earlier that you two kind of stand out in a crowd."

"I said that's enough, Jenni. We aren't doing this." Dean rose from his position next to Sam and towered over Jenni.

Jenni rose as well, but as Dean towered over her by several inches it wasn't very intimidating. She placed her hands on her hips and glared at the oldest Winchester. "You were the one who said I needed to tell Sam about this, Dean."

"I never said that he had to go along with it."

"Sorry, I forgot that you have Sam's best interests at heart. Maybe we should just let you decide what's best. You'll forgive me if I go ahead and book a few jail cells for three."

"You're being overdramatic."

"Am I?"

"Yeah you are. You don't know that we'd get caught."

"You don't know that we won't!" Jenni's voice was on edge of hysteric.

"Why should we?"

"Dean, with the crimes up against us I'm sure that we've been put in the police database by now. Those don't stay in just one state."

"Look, if Sam doesn't want to do this, he doesn't have to."

"Oh yeah, now that's a brilliant plan. Why don't we just head back to the cabin now then? We'll wait until Sam's eyes are so bad that even the specialist won't be able to help?"

"Jenni," Dean was really starting to get angry now. Sam had stiffened on the couch and tears were beginning to escape his clouded eyes. He didn't want to push his brother any further. But Jenni didn't seem to be done.

"Dean, don't be stupid. The longer we wait the better the chances that the glasses will have to be permanent."

"This isn't something he needs to be forced into. This is up to Sam, not us."

"I agree." Jenni turned back to the youngest Winchester and felt her heart stutter for a moment when she saw the devastation written all over Sam's face.

He was sitting in a half hunched position, clutching at his shaggy locks. Large tears were running down his protruding cheekbones and falling off the tip of his chin.

Dean followed her gaze and was instantly next to his brother once more, clapping a hand on Sam's shoulder and squeezing it gently.

"Sam, listen to me." Dean said softly, tipping Sam's chin and forcing Sam's head to turn so he could look Sam in the eyes. "We don't need to do this today. We can wait as long as you want, and I promise I won't make you do this alone. I'll be right there."

"No," Sam's whisper was so soft Dean almost didn't catch it. "No, you can't. You can't be there, Dean."

"Sam?"

"Jenni's right. It's too risky for you to be there."

Dean shot a side glare at the young nurse. She didn't flinch but met Dean's look head on before she took a few steps closer to the youngest brother.

"Sam, we can take Dean with us. He can stay out in the car if you want him nearby. He doesn't need to stay here."

Sam nodded and grabbed onto Dean's wrist, squeezing it tightly in his big hand. "Dean?"

Dean shook his head slightly at Jenni, clearly not happy about this. "Yeah, Sammy, I'll be out in the car. I won't be far, and if you need me I'll be right there. I promise."

Sam nodded slowly and turned his head away from his brother. He dropped his chin so it touched his chest. Jenni and Dean shifted in closer, concerned, but Sam lifted his head again after a minute.

"So, when do we have to leave?"

***  
The rest of the morning had passed fairly quickly. Sam had surrendered to Dean and had allowed the older brother to help Sam in the shower and get ready for the day. Afterwards Sam had seemed rather subdued and lost in his own thoughts. He sat motionless on the couch while Jenni dozed on the bed and Dean scanned through the limited TV channels.

Before too long Jenni had announced that they had better head off or they would miss their appointment. Dean hadn't missed the way Sam had considerably paled, or the way his lips had thinned to a tight line. He kept an almost constant gaze on his brother during the trip to the Advanced Eye Care Center, and watched on as Jenni had helped his brother out of the car and up the half dozen steps to the front doors where they both disappeared.

Dean didn't like this, he was uncomfortable with the fact that Sam's care was in someone else's hands and he was once again on the outside looking in. Only this time he wasn't even allowed to be in the same building with his brother.

Dean knew why Sam was doing this, and it wasn't for himself. It was for Dean. Sam was facing something he really didn't want to be facing alone to keep Dean off the police radar. Perhaps that was the reason that Dean was so unhappy about this.

He had seen the desperation on Sam's face grow as they had neared the Advanced Eye Care Center, and hadn't missed the fact that what little color Sam had had in his cheeks had drained when Dean had killed the impala's engine.

Dean tapped against the steering wheel and glanced at his watch. He wasn't sure how long this appointment was supposed to last, but with every passing minute he was growing more and more anxious. The feeling that Sam needed him was overwhelming.

He looked again over to the quiet building, leaning his arm out the open window. He kept his eyes locked on the door, waiting for his brother's return.

***  
Sam shifted nervously in the hard waiting chair beside Jenni. He kept his hands clasped together and resting on his knees. He was slightly hunched in his seat, his long dark locks falling into his face.

Jenni looked up from the magazine she had been flipping through and chewed on her lip as she studied Sam's tense form. She could see every muscle bunched as if ready to spring from his seat and run out of here.

She sighed and tossed the magazine onto the small table before leaning back and crossing her legs. She glanced up at the wall clock and to the secretary typing away at a small computer at her desk in the corner of the office before looking back at Sam.

"Just relax, Sam. It's going to be ok."

Sam nodded, but Jenni could tell from the lip biting and stress lines around his eyes that he was anything but relaxed.

"Sam, we don't know if you will even be able to wear glasses yet. So just relax, you aren't doing yourself any favors by getting so worked up."

A lone tear made its way down Sam's cheek and trembled on his chin for a moment before it fell and disappeared into his dark shirt.

"Sam?" Jenni leaned forward and rested a hand on Sam's. "Do you want to call Dean? Have him come in here and wait with us?"

Sam shook his head as another tear escaped his blank eye.

"Do you want to leave? I don't want you to feel like you were forced into this, Sam. We can do this on your own terms."

Once again a single headshake was all she got in answer. Jenni frowned, she didn't like this. Sam clearly was desperate for his brother, whether he was willing to admit it or not.

"Sam, maybe we should call Dean."

"No." Sam lifted his head slightly and shifted his eyes so he could see the faint outline of Jenni's body. "Don't want to worry him." Sam's voice was surprisingly steady considering the fact that he was trembling.

"Sam, I just think…"

"No." Sam said quietly closing his eyes and drawing in a deep breath.

Jenni nodded and turned back to the secretary who was standing up and making her way over to them. "Sam, this is it."

"Mr. Davids? Dr. Bellman will see you now."

Sam froze and clung to Jenni's arm as she helped him to his feet.

"You want me to come with you, Sam?"

Sam nodded and Jenni gave him a small squeeze on the arm as she led Sam to the darkened eye exam room.

Once inside she settled Sam in the exam chair and strayed to the corner, leaning against it with her legs crossing at the ankles.

A moment later a small black haired doctor entered the room. She smiled at Jenni before grabbing a small rolling chair and sitting in front of Sam. She pushed a pair of half moon glasses further up on her nose and twirled a loose lock of black hair around her ear.

"Hi Sam, my name is Dr. Jessica Bellman."

Sam's lips trembled slightly and he pulled them into his mouth, biting down on them to steady them.

"No need to be nervous, we are just going to have a look and see what's going on with your eyes." Jessica said soothingly as she reached up and pulled down a strange looking device that Jenni couldn't identify.

Jessica turned on a light and adjusted it to Sam's eye level. "Ok Sam, I need you to lean forward until your forehead meets the rest here." Jessica instructed gently.

Sam hesitated for a minute before leaning forward, his forehead met a soft pad and he relaxed slightly.

"Sam, what I'm going to do is turn on a light which will allow me to see into your eyes." Jessica turned on the light and leaned forward so she was looking into the device.

Jenni leaned forward slightly as she watched Sam's body tense. She forced herself to take a deep breath and stuck her hand into her pocket, thumbing her cell phone gently, waiting for the signal that Dean was needed.

Jessica leaned back after a minute and flipped off the light. "Ok Sam, go ahead and lean back."

Sam did as he was told and leaned back against the hard chair.

"From what I can see, it looks like some damaged tissues are mending." She turned to look at Jenni and lifted an eyebrow. "Were you the one who called?"

Jenni nodded and stepped forward.

"How long has he been seeing the shadows?"

"A few days." Sam answered softly. He lifted a hand and rubbed it against his closed eyelids.

"Have you had any headaches?"

"Yeah."

"I'm guessing bad ones?"

"Yes." Sam and Jenni answered at the same time.

"I see, perfectly normal. The damage to your eyes is still extensive, but because you can see again your brain is instinctively trying to process what it is seeing. It causes it extra strain, which is giving you the massive headaches. But because of the damage and the fact that your eyes are still trying to heal I'd say contacts are out of the question. Glasses should help reduce the headaches."

"Dr. Bellman, will the glasses be permanent?" Jenni asked stepping forward and placing a hand on Sam's shoulder.

"It's a possibility. But from what I could see and with the progress he is already making I'd say that the chances of them being permanent are slim. He might have them for a while, but if his eyes continue to heal the way they have been I'd say at least a few weeks. A few months are a possibility as well, but no longer than that."

Jessica stood up and strode across the room, turning on the overhead lights. "So would you like to pick out some frames, Sam?"

***  
"Come on, come on." Dean fidgeted in the impala, tapping his fingers against the wheel.

Sam and Jenni had been inside for over an hour now, seriously shouldn't they have come out already? Or at least called to let him know what the hell was going on? He was seriously five seconds away from say screw staying in the car and storming into the building to find Sam himself.

As he reached for the door handle, the large double doors to the building opened and two familiar people stepped out. One had shaggy dark hair and was looking down, averting his face from Dean's.

Concerned, Dean pushed open the impala's door and stepped out ready to race to his brother's side but Jenni held up a hand stopping him.

Sam and Jenni made their way down the stairs and across the parking lot. Dean noticed that Sam was no longer holding onto Jenni for support, in fact he seemed to be doing ok on his own. He grinned, if something was helping his brother to be more independent he was all for it.

As his gangly sibling neared the car, Dean felt himself growing more tense. Something about Sam's body language wasn't right. His feet seemed to be dragging along the ground, his legs took shorter strides, and his shoulders were humped. He had yet to look up to look at him, almost as if looking away from the ground were impossible for him.

"Sammy?" Dean wasn't going to be stopped this time. He stepped forward and met his brother, grabbing hold of his shoulders and stopping Sam's forward trek.

Sam looked up slowly, chewing on his lip. Dean pulled back a little, keeping his hands on his brother's arms as he got a good look at him.

Sam's light hazel eyes were shiny under a pair of thick lenses, with a big black frame surrounding them. The glasses magnified Sam's eyes, making them look almost three times larger than their normal size. It would have been comical under different circumstances, but Dean found nothing funny about this. Sam obviously was struggling to deal with the new tool that would help him see.

"I told you he wouldn't laugh, Sam." Jenni said resting a gentle hand on Sam's shoulder.

"They really aren't that bad, Sammy." Dean nodded as he offered his brother a small smile.

"I look ridiculous." Sam said reaching up to pull the glasses off his nose.

"Sam," Jenni reached over stopping Sam before he could pull the glasses off his face. "You heard Dr. Bellman, you are progressing very well in your recovery and these glasses won't be permanent. You aren't going to be stuck with them very long."

"How long?" Dean asked as he followed Sam around the impala to the passenger side.

"A week or two, depending on how well his eyes adapt to them."

"That's not bad, Sammy."

"Can we just go?" Sam asked lowering himself into the impala and shutting the door. Dean looked up at Jenni, who shrugged, before making his way around the front of the impala and sliding in behind the wheel. Jenni climbed in behind Dean and shot Sam a concerned look before meeting Dean's gaze in the rearview mirror.

Dean pulled the impala into gear and pulled out of the parking lot. Sam stared out the passenger side window all the way back to the motel, keeping one hand cupped under his chin while the open window allowed cool air to blow his hair away from his face.

Dean pulled in front of their motel room but left the engine idling, he turned slightly in his seat so he could see both Sam and Jenni easily. "I'm hungry, you guys hungry?"

"I could eat." Jenni agreed.

Sam continued to look out the window.

"Sam?" Dean prodded fixing his brother with a concerned look.

"I'm fine." Sam still didn't look at either of them.

Dean frowned and turned back to look at Jenni. "I'll go grab us some dinner."

Jenni nodded, and exited the impala.

Dean pulled the impala into reverse as Jenni circled around the car and headed towards their room. He waited until she made it inside before pulling out of the parking spot and out of the lot again.

"What's going on with you, Sam?"

"Nothing."

Dean shot him a sideways glance.

"I'm fine, Dean." Sam said still staring outside, but he had without a doubt caught the dubious glance that Dean had shot his way.

"Yeah, whatever, dude."

Sam sighed and turned to look at his brother, squinting somewhat behind the thick lenses. "Can we just drop it, Dean?"

"Drop what? We aren't talking about anything, dude."

"Good, let's leave it that way." Sam lifted his fingers and rubbed at his eyes. He shook his head once and stared moodily at the windshield.

"Fine," Dean leaned forward slightly and began scanning the diner signs. "So what sounds good?"

Sam shook his head. "I'm not hungry."

Dean glared at him for a moment before he turned the wheel sharply making the classic shoot into the closest parking lot. He spun her around in a tight ninety degree turn and directed her into the closest parking spot where he let it idle for a moment before he killed the engine all together. He turned sideways in his seat, draping his arm over the bench and glared at his brother.

"That's it, what's going on in that freaky head of yours?"

"Nothing."

"It's not nothing, Sam. You have been moody all day and you have barely touched your food for three days. That doesn't sound like it's nothing to me."

Sam glared at him and fumbled with the door handle, he pushed open the door with a squeak and got out of the car. Dean immediately followed, practically sliding on top of the hood so he could catch his brother before he got too far.

"What's this about, Sam, huh?" Dean grabbed hold of Sam's light jacket and fisted his fingers tightly into the bunched material. "Is it the glasses? The fact that you have to wear them?"

Sam didn't meet his eyes.

"Sam, this is stupid. Do you think it really matters whether you have glasses or not? Would you prefer not being able to see at all?" Dean gave his brother a firm shake, driving Sam's gaze to his own. Sam just stared at him, his lips thinning and his jaw muscles flexing. Dean gave him another shake, a bit harder this time. "Damn it, Sam. Talk to me!"

Sam jerked out of Dean's grasp and took a couple steps back. He closed his eyes for a moment, but when he opened them again they were moist with unshed tears.

"I don't like these, Dean. I don't like having to wear them. I look ridiculous." Sam glanced around the parking lot for a moment before turning his gaze back to Dean. "The doctor said I'm still technically blind. I can see certain shades of blacks and grays but it is so damn frustrating, you have no idea how hard this is."

Dean felt his gut tightening and folded his arms across his chest, waiting for Sam to explode. He knew this had been a long time in coming.

"I can't – I don't think I can do this anymore, Dean." Sam blinked hard a couple times and a few tears trickled down his cheeks. "I'm starting to forget little things."

"Like what?"

"The colors. I don't remember the shade of your leather jacket or the color of my toothbrush. You don't know how weird it is to see someone and have them completely shrouded in gray. I can't even see your eyes that well – it's like you have deep hollows where your eyes should be."

God, he had had no idea that things had gotten this bad. Dean stepped forward to grab his brother but Sam sidestepped the attempt. He lifted a hand to rub at the tear tickling his cheek.

"What color is the dash in the impala, Dean? I don't think I can remember." Sam squinted and lifted a hand to his forehead. His knees buckled slightly and Dean jumped forward to grab hold of his brother's shoulders.

"Easy, Sammy." Dean helped Sam to sit down on the asphalt. Sam doubled over keeping his palms pressed against his forehead, his breathing ragged.

Dean kept a hand on his brother's shoulder as Sam fought to get some semblance of control. He chewed on his lip as he looked out to the street and the rumbling traffic there.

"Sam, I don't know how strange this is for you." Dean finally said after a few minutes of silence. He felt Sam tense under his hand but didn't budge. "I will promise you this though, we'll get through it."

Sam turned to look at him, his large hazel eyes blinking owlishly under his glasses.

"I promise, Sammy."

Sam nodded and looked away again.

"So what do you say we go get some food and get back to the motel. We'll head out first thing in the morning."

Sam pushed against the asphalt, slowly getting to his feet. Dean rose and helped steady him but released him once Sam was upright.

The two brothers walked back to the waiting impala. Sam reached for the handle and stopped, he looked up to see his brother circling around the hood. "Hey, Dean?"

Dean paused. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the keys. "Yeah?"

"Thanks, for uh…"

Dean gave his brother a half smirk and pulled open his door. "Don't mention it. Now shake ass, I'm starving."

Sam smirked and pulled open his own door, sliding down into the passenger seat. He stared intently at the dashboard for a minute before closing his eyes and shaking his head.

Dean looked at the sandy colored dash and shot his brother a worried glance as he stuck the keys into the ignition. "It's tan, Sammy."

"What?" Sam asked turning a disbelieving gaze at his brother.

"The dashboard, its tan."

Sam smiled he turned back and ran a tentative hand over the dashboard. "Tan." He said it softly and closed his eyes, breathing deeply in through his nose as if trying to picture it.

_I will get you through this, Sammy. I promise._ Dean threw his right hand over the bench and looked over his shoulder as he pulled out of the parking spot. Sam leaned back again, letting his shoulder brush against Dean's fingers. Neither brother mentioned the contact between them, but neither of them were willing to break it.

***

The smell of hot coffee woke him. He opened his eyes and rolled over slightly; turning his head, his gaze fell on the sleeping form sprawled across the bed on the opposite side of the room. The dark shaggy locks were barely visible, but the deep rhythmic breathing told Dean that Sam had yet to wake.

Grumbling softly about people getting up too early, Dean pushed aside his blankets and slipped quietly off the bed and out of the room. He padded down the hall running a hand through his rumpled hair and blinking the remaining sleep out of his eyes.

Jenni sat at the kitchen table nursing a coffee and staring into nothingness. She looked up as Dean entered the room and gestured towards the coffee maker.

Dean didn't bother with a morning greeting as he pulled out a coffee mug and filled it with the sweet smelling brew. He popped a few pieces of bread into the toaster and joined Jenni at the table.

"You're up early." Jenni observed as she sipped at her coffee.

Dean grunted and took a large gulp of coffee.

Jenni worried her lip and swirled her coffee around in the mug. "Haven't seen much of Sam over the past couple of days."

Dean looked up at her, his eyes wary.

It was true that Sam had been rather subdued the last couple of days – ever since their return to the cabin he had been holed up in the shared bedroom. He had refused to come out at meal times and spent most of the day sulking or sleeping. He rarely spoke, even to Dean.

The hideous glasses had been tossed onto the dresser upon their arrival – and Dean had only caught his brother wearing them once. Sam had quickly pulled them off again and hid them under his pillow. Dean hadn't pressed the issue; he knew Sam would have to come to grips with this on his own terms. Not his. He wasn't going to force Sam into wearing them.

"How's he doing?" Jenni asked, interrupting Dean's thoughts.

Dean shrugged as he drained the last of his coffee. He stood from his seat as the toast popped in the toaster.

Jenni frowned at his back and turned back to her coffee mug. "Is he up?"

"Not yet." Dean pulled another coffee mug from the cupboard and filled it with coffee. He dropped one of the pieces of toast onto an empty plate and picked up both items and left the kitchen.

He padded softly down the hall to the bedrooms and pushed open their door with his foot and kicked it shut behind him.

Sam sat up, startled by the sudden noise. His hazel eyes widened in surprise and he blinked rapidly as he worked to force the remainders of sleep from his eyes.

"Breakfast, dude." Dean said smirking a little at the surprised look on Sam's face.

Sam groaned and laid back down, rubbing his hands up and down his face. "What time is it?"

Dean glanced at his watch and grimaced. "Quarter after six."

"In the morning?"

"Yep." Dean set the plate and coffee mug on the bedside table and sat on his own bed scratching the back of his neck.

Sam dropped his hands and turned his head. "You ok, Dean?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

Sam frowned and pushed up onto his elbow. "You just sound a little stressed is all."

"I'm fine, Sam. Eat your breakfast." Dean pushed the plate of toast into Sam's hands before pulling his duffel onto the bed and sorting through his clothes. He sniffed a couple different shirts before he found one that smelled semi-clean. He grabbed his last pair of clean jeans and a blue plaid over shirt. He wadded them all up in a ball and turned again to his brother.

Sam was tearing bits of crust off his toast and crushing it into fine crumbs.

"I'm going to go grab a shower."

Sam nodded while he continued to destroy his breakfast.

Dean shook his head; there was no point in telling Sam to eat. He would eat when he got hungry. Dean shuffled across the hall to the bathroom and kicked the door closed behind him. He set his crumpled clothes heap onto the sink and flipped on the overhead lights.

The bathroom was illuminated by a soft florescent glow and the soft humming of electricity. Dean turned the tap in the shower and allowed the water to warm while he pulled his black t-shirt over his head. He ran a hand down his chest and the still fairly recent scars that lined it.

The scars were pink and stood out amongst his otherwise tan skin. Dean hated those scars, they reminded him of what he had lost every time he saw them.

Their last encounter with the demon, the pain, the fear, the helplessness, and worst of all – John's final words to him.

Dean looked at his pale reflection. His jade eyes were dull and had a sunken look about them. Dark purple shadows lingered under his eyes and his cheeks were drained of color. New stress lines had been added to his forehead and his skin was tight over his cheekbones and around his jaw line.

He looked like he had aged a few years. Dean dropped his gaze and focused on slipping out of his sweatpants and boxer shorts before he stepped into the now hot water. He let his head fall back, letting the hot water run down his exposed face and neck.

His hair was plastered to his head and his skin tingled as the hot water caressed his neck and shoulders. He reached for the shampoo and squeezed out a handful. He lathered up the substance and ran his fingers through his hair, pushing the short locks up into soapy spikes.

Dean reached for the soap, but paused when a soft knock sounded at the door.

He cursed silently and pulled back the shower curtain a bit, poking his head out of the steamy confines of the shower. He squinted his eyes against the soapy run off from his hair that was making its way down his face.

"Yeah?"

The door opened a crack and Jenni stuck her head inside. She strained her eyes to see through the thick steam. "Dean?"

"I'm in the shower. Can't this wait?"

"I'm sorry, I know you're showering, but I'm just worried."

Dean groaned and pulled his head back into the shower, yanking the curtain closed again. He lifted his chin up and allowed the hot water to rinse out the soapy suds from his hair. "About what?"

"I can't find Sam."

Dean jerked and let out a startled yell as his foot connected painfully with the side of the shower. "Son of a bitch." Dean fumbled with the water tap and turned off the showerhead. He reached out and grabbed a towel from the rack, wrapping it around his waist before pushing open the shower curtain and stepping out.

"What are you talking about?"

"Just what I said I can't find Sam."

Dean grabbed a spare towel from the rack and rubbed it over his face. "He was just in the bedroom, Jenni. Did you check there?"

Jenni frowned at him. "Yes, Dean. I'm not stupid."

"Your bathroom?"

"Dean, he's not in the cabin! I've looked everywhere!"

"Would you mind leaving for a minute so I can get dressed?"

Jenni snorted and stormed out of the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.

Dean shook his head as he pulled on his clothes. He stepped out of the bathroom a minute later running a hand through his wet hair. "You've checked everywhere?" He asked as he stepped into the bedroom, just to double check for himself. He hadn't been in the bathroom that long so he doubted that Sam could have gone very far.

Sam's bed was empty, the blankets were pooled at the bottom of the bed and the hideous glasses were missing from the dresser. Dean frowned as he pulled on his leather jacket.

"I've already told you that I've checked everywhere in the cabin, Dean."

"Did you check outside?" Dean asked tugging at the cuffs of his jacket before popping the collar up a bit more.

"Where would he go, Dean? It's not like he knows the area."

Dean snatched the impala's keys and turned back to face her. "Do you think that really matters? Let's just get him back."

"Fine."

Dean jogged down the hall and hurried out the front door, coming to an abrupt halt when his eyes fell on the impala, and more importantly the shaggy haired man inside her. He turned back and signaled to Jenni who looked over Dean's shoulder to see for herself.

Dean gestured for her to stay in the cabin and Jenni nodded before disappearing inside again. Dean walked down the porch steps and up to the black classic, staring at his brother through the passenger side window.

Sam was sitting in a half slumped position, running a hand over the dashboard with his eyes closed. Dean tapped on the window, causing the younger hunter to jump and spin his head sharply. He winced and lifted a hand to rub at his neck; Dean smirked and pulled open the door.

"Sammy?"

"Hey, Dean."

"Hey. What are you doing out here?"

Sam sighed and leaned back against the seat, closing his eyes. "Just thinking."

"Sam? You ok?"

Sam opened his eyes and looked owlishly at Dean behind his thick lenses. "Can we go for a drive, Dean?"

"Where do you want to go, Sam?"

Sam turned to look through the windshield. "I don't care. Just somewhere."

"Sure, we can do that." Dean helped Sam to shut his door and walked around the car. Sam still hadn't moved or looked away from the windshield by the time Dean was settling in behind the wheel. Dean cast his brother a worried glance and pulled out of the drive.

From the large bay windows he could see a curtain flicker, and was sure that Jenni had been watching them.

The brothers rode in silence as Dean directed the impala down a few winding roads leading down towards the lake. Sam shifted a few times on the bench as he tried to make himself a bit more comfortable, Dean cast him side-glances every few minutes.

Sensing the scrutiny, Sam turned so he was looking out the passenger side window instead, folding his arms over his chest and leaning back against the bench.

Dean let out a soft sigh and began worrying his lower lip as he turned onto a small dirt road. Bits of gravel crunched under the impala's heavy tires as the classic clawed her way up a small ridge along the lakeside.

Large clumps of trees hid the choppy water from view for brief stretches capturing Sam's attention; Dean concentrated on keeping the wide classic on the thin dirt road.

As the minutes ticked on Dean was forced to focus more on the ridge and the road in front of them, rather than what Sam was doing. So he was somewhat surprised when a large hand clamped around his forearm and tugged gently.

"Dean, pull over."

Dean shot his brother a wide-eyed gaze and searched for a place to stop. A small crevice in the hillside allowed just enough room for the classic to pull into. Dean eased her into it and pushed the gear into park, turning to look at his brother.

But Sam wasn't paying him any mind, he pushed open the passenger side door, hugged himself tightly and crossed the dirt road and down to a small almost invisible path hidden amongst a cluster of trees. The shaggy dark head was quickly hidden by large tree boughs and red and orange leaves.

Dean cursed silently under his breath and killed the idling engine before following his brother's lead. He found the hill that Sam was treading to be steeper than he had originally thought and stepped sideways to stop himself from falling.

A few tree branches grabbed at him, tugging at his leather jacket and scratching at his semi-exposed neck. Dean tugged at the popped collar of his jacket and brushed away a small spider that was crawling on his ear.

As he neared the bottom of the hill he scanned instinctually for his brother and paused when he saw Sam nearing the side of the lake. He felt his heart pick up a notch as Sam neared the stormy gray water and opened his mouth to call to his brother, but stopped when Sam's knees folded and he plopped down on a patch of dry grass and weeds.

Dean relaxed and leaned against the closest pine, crossing his legs at the ankles and shoving his hands into his jacket pockets as he watched Sam picking idly at the short grass in front of him.

Dark rumbling clouds danced across the sky, hiding the cool autumn sun behind them and sending mid-morning light into a semi-darkness. A chill wind rustled the branches of the trees and a few leaves flitted down to the ground. Dean scuffed his boot against the ground – crunching a few of the leaves and began to hum _The Unforgiven _under his breath to pass the time.

Sam shifted slightly after a few minutes, his back muscles tightening under his thin t-shirt and a hand cupped his chin as he leaned forward a bit more.

Dean smirked, he knew his brother well enough by now to know that something was bothering him. But he knew that Sam needed to work things through himself before he asked Dean for help or advice. Dean let his eyes wander over the surrounding trees and down to the choppy lake water. The smell of fish and heavy pine made him wrinkle his nose and reminded him all too well of why he didn't like spending time in the great outdoors.

As the minutes passed, Dean became increasingly bored with standing and admiring the surrounding wilderness. He was tempted to tell Sam to shake ass so they could get the hell out of here and get back to the cabin where they could both get warmed up by a nice cup of coffee. But as his gaze drifted back to Sam's slumped form he immediately started forward, frowning when he saw Sam's attempts to suppress the shivers from the brisk wind and early morning temperature.

Dean shrugged out of his leather jacket and draped it across Sam's shoulders. Sam looked up at him, his large puppy dog eyes magnified by those hideous glassed. Dean suppressed the urge to get Sam out of the cold as he met the shiny and red-rimmed hazel eyes. Sam clearly wasn't ready to leave yet, although for what reason, Dean wasn't sure.

Grunting softly, Dean lowered himself onto the grass beside his brother and picked at a few blades of dry grass. He twirled a piece in between his large fingers and flicked it away, then picked another to repeat the process.

"What does it look like, Dean?"

Dean shrugged looking at the brown piece of grass he was twirling slowly around in his hands. "Like dead grass."

Sam looked over at him, his eyebrows raised a bit in surprise. His gaze fell to the small blade of grass Dean was twirling. "I didn't mean that."

Dean looked up at his brother, meeting his brother's puzzled gaze. "What does what look like?"

"The lake. What does it look like?"

Dean looked out to the blue-gray water, watching as the choppy waves were pushed to the bank just to hit ragged rocks and shallow pools. The dark thunderclouds were reflected on the water's surface and in the middle of the lake where the sun was starting to creep out reflected brightly, making Dean squint his eyes against the glare.

Dean shrugged and tossed the blade of grass away and pulled his knees up to his chest so he could wrap his arms around them. "It looks like a lake, Sammy. You've seen 'em before. Nothing new."

Sam nodded once and turned to look at his lap, his eyes closing. He breathed evenly through his nose and narrowed his eyebrows as if focusing on something rather hard.

This worried Dean; surely remembering a lake shouldn't be this hard. "Sam?"

"I can't see out very far." Sam didn't bother opening his eyes or lifting his chin. He talked to his lap and he wrapped his arms around his torso – making the leather jacket draped across his shoulders slip down a bit. Dean quietly adjust the garment for his brother while Sam continued his deep breathing.

"How far out can you see?"

"I can see the lone tree in the water – but anything further out is fuzzy."

Dean turned to study the lone tree Sam had been indicating. It stood amongst the shallows; a few muddy pools clung around the banks on one side while the other seemed to be submerged in the water.

The waves licked at the light brown trunk, and a few leaves fell from the gently blowing branches. They drifted on the water until they became stuck on the jagged rocks lining the shore.

Dean absent-mindedly picked another blade of grass and twirled it between his fingers watching the rough waves hit the rocks. He glanced over at his brother who was leaning forward now, his position mimicking Dean's with the exception of Sam's chin resting on his knees and his fingers clinging to his jeans.

"The water's gray, Sam. Clouds are dark today so it's made the whole lake look gray." Dean scanned as far as he could see and saw a few small fishing boats bobbing along the waves – the people holding the poles were leaning back against their seats.

"Smells like fish – and salt."

"Yeah well welcome to the great outdoors, Sammy." Dean smirked and smacked his brother on the arm.

Sam shook his head and turned to look at his brother. "Dean?"

Dean picked up a small twig and began scratching in the dirt with it. "Yeah?"

"What does Jenni look like?"

Dean snorted. "She's short."

Sam rolled his eyes and smacked his brother – it was still hard to see the exact details but he was sure he had hit his brother somewhere along his chest as Dean let out a soft grunt when Sam's hand made contact. "Smart ass."

"Always."

"What color is her hair?"

Dean chewed on the inside of his cheek as he thought about it for a moment. "Blonde."

"What about her eyes?"

"Blue."

"Teeth?"

"Purple."

"Dean."

"What? What kind of question is teeth anyway, Sam?"

"Good point."

Dean smirked.

"Cute?"

"Do I hang out with chicks that aren't cute, Sam?"

"Do you really want me to answer that question?"

"Shut up, bitch."

"Make me, jerk."

A small splatter of water hit Dean's forehead and he glanced up at the ever-darkening clouds. A few more drops rained down on them and Dean pushed to his feet. "Ok, picnic is over, nature boy. Time to get back."

Sam stood slowly, aided by Dean when he grabbed Sam's elbow. He brushed the seat of his pants and turned to follow his brother back up the small hill to where the impala was parked. Dean reached behind Sam's back and urged him on ahead, wanting to keep him in his sights.

Sam reached up and grabbed onto the overhanging branches as he began his slow climb up the semi-steep hill. The rough bark scraped across his palms and sap made his fingers and palm sticky. He grimaced and rubbed his hand against his jeans, successfully making a sticky damp mess on his pants.

Dean stumbled on the loose dirt, which was quickly becoming sticky mud as the trickling raindrops turned into a downpour.

Ahead of him, Sam's boot slipped in the slick mud and Sam stumbled. He tried frantically to keep his balance by wind milling his arms around and almost smacked Dean in the face.

Dean reared back as Sam's hand brushed his ear, catching him unawares. He snapped his attention from the slippery mud to his ailing brother and reached forward to help steady him just as Sam lost his fight with gravity and fell with a soft plop into the mud.

"Sam, you ok?" Dean reached under his brother's armpits and helped to haul Sam back to his feet.

Sam grimaced and shook bits of mud and dry leaves from his filthy hands. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"Don't think you'd make a very good professional dancer, Sammy." Dean joked as he eyed his mud-splattered sibling. "They need better balance than what you have."

Sam glared at Dean over his shoulder and flicked his hand in Dean's direction, getting a good splattering of mud across Dean's face. "Very funny."

Dean spat some mud onto the ground and grimaced at the grainy feeling that was now stuck on his tongue and between his teeth. "Real cute, Sam."

Sam ignored him and snatched the nearest tree branch, using it to pull himself up the rest of the hillside and onto level ground once again. Dean followed, stepping in Sam's large muddy footprints.

The brothers hurried across the road and into the dry confines of the impala. As Sam settled against the bench, his mud-streaked clothes left little brown lines along the upholstery, Dean grimaced and stuck the keys in the ignition.

"Dude, you are so cleaning that up."

Sam looked questioningly down at the seat before giving his brother a doe-eyed look. "Cleaning what up?"

"The mud that you've gotten all over the seat." Dean started up the impala and spun her around, grinding his teeth as the front right wheel dipped over the edge of the small ridge.

Sam squinted at the seat before shrugging and looking out the window and the driving rain that was pounding against it. "I don't see any problem with the seat, Dean."

Dean cocked an eyebrow incredulously at his brother before turning to concentrate on the slippery muddy road. "Sam, the whole seat is covered in mud – that can ruin the upholstery."

"I don't see any mud, Dean."

Dean let out a frustrated sigh before leaning over and flipping on the radio. Foreigner's _Juke Box Hero _boomed from the speakers.

Sam winced and rubbed at his forehead as a headache pounded behind his eyes.

Dean shot Sam a worried glance as he turned down the volume and returned his hands to the wheel. He tapped against the wheel in time with the drums and mouthed the words as the small road curved around and headed down towards the main road.

"What do you want me to clean up with?"

"Never mind, Sam, I'll do it." Dean muttered quietly as he scanned the road up ahead and seeing no traffic pulled onto it without bothering pause at the stop sign. He pressed a little harder on the accelerator as the impala's tires rumbled against the damp asphalt.

"I don't mind, Dean."

"Seriously, Sam, don't worry about." Dean turned to look at his brother, giving him a big smirk as Sam's magnified eyes widened in surprise.

"You worried I'll miss a spot or something?"

"Nope. But you are already getting a headache – I think your eyes need a break from all the strain."

Sam frowned. "I'm not two, Dean. I don't need a nap."

"I'm not saying you do, Sam. But your eyes are still healing – and it can't be good for them to have all the extra strain of having to see all the time. Just go relax for a bit, dude. You can wash and wax her later."

Sam started to roll his eyes, but stopped when a burning pain started. He groaned and pulled the glasses off his nose and rubbed at his eyes with a thumb and forefinger.

"Besides, I think we're past due on your medications." Dean stated unnecessarily.

"Gee, no kidding." Sam grumbled. "Gahh!"

"Sam?" Dean reached out and pressed firmly against Sam's chest, steadying him as he slammed on the break and pulled over. "Sam?"

Sam ground his jaw together and chewed on his bottom lip, blinking against the fiery shooting pains that were making his eyes water. A few hot tears trickled down his cheeks and splattered against his dark shirt as they fell from his chin.

"Let's get you back to the cabin, dude." Dean said frowning as Sam continued to blink rapidly trying to fight back the agonizing pain he was unwilling to voice.

Sam didn't trust himself to speak. Instead he nodded weakly and leaned back against the bench, squeezing his eyes shut and breathing deeply as he tried to get a grip on the pain.

Dean kept a concerned eye on his brother all the way back to the cabin, and subtly pressed harder against the accelerator – urging the classic to reach their destination even faster.

***

The rain lasted well into the afternoon – pounding the dead grass into muddy tangles and the gutters to fill with dirty water.

Dean walked down the hall in socked feet and peered into the semi-closed bedroom door.

On the far bed Sam was sprawled out on his stomach, his head turned towards the window and one arm draped over the side of the bed, his fingers brushing the carpet. The blankets were resting in a pile around his ankles and his soft breathing told Dean that he was still out cold.

Satisfied, Dean turned back down the hall to the living area where Jenni was curled up on the small couch with a book. She glanced over the top of her book and raised an eyebrow in inquiry as Dean sank onto the single lounge chair.

"He's still out – those horse pills sure take a lot out of him." Dean shook his head and pulled the lever on the side of the chair, pushing out the leg rest.

Jenni tabbed her page and set the book on the cushion beside her as she studied the older brother. "So how's he doing – with everything?"

Dean shrugged and leaned back, closing his eyes and listening to the comfortable sounds of the fire crackling in the fireplace. "About as good as we could expect. It's hard for him."

"It's been hard on both of you, Dean."

Dean opened one eye and rolled it in her direction. When he saw that it was a statement that didn't require an immediate response he closed his eye again and relaxed further into the comfortable chair.

Jenni picked up her book again and turned back to her tabbed page, picking up where she had left off.

"You ever thought of getting a better TV?" Dean asked not bothering to open his eyes.

Jenni glanced at him before returning her attention to the page. "I don't watch a lot of TV, so getting a better one isn't high on my agenda."

Dean rolled his head slowly and opened his eyes, blinking sluggishly at the captivated nurse. "You don't watch TV?"

Jenni sighed and placed her finger against the page, marking her spot as she looked up at Dean again. "I didn't say I don't watch TV, I said I don't watch a lot. There isn't a whole lot on that isn't junk."

Dean smirked. "I could think of a few things."

"Like what? Corny action movies and daytime porn?"

"If the shoe fits."

"Dean, isn't there something else you can do?"

Dean grunted and pushed himself to his feet. "Actually…" He trailed off as he turned down the hall heading towards the boys' room again.

He returned a moment later with a dark green duffel slung over his shoulder. He winked at Jenni as he headed towards the kitchen.

Jenni laughed softly and turned back to her reading. She heard Dean drop the bag on the floor and sort through the contents of the bag before dumping what sounded like metal onto the kitchen table. A few minutes later the soft sounds of metal scraping against something caught Jenni's attention.

Curious, she tabbed her book and rolled off the couch, stretching her cramped back muscles. She'd use coffee as an excuse for the interruption in her reading.

As she entered the kitchen, she paused, staring open mouthed at the array of weapons sitting on her kitchen table.

Disassembled shotguns, handguns and even a couple tasers sat amongst the different variety of knives. Dean was leaning over, legs spread apart with a wet stone and running a rather small blade down the surface. Dean looked up at her and paused when he saw Jenni's surprised face.

Jenni quickly closed her mouth and started for the cupboards, pulling down the coffee can and filling a filter with the grounds. "You want some coffee, Dean?"

Dean watched his host as she busied herself pulling down three mugs, then shook her head and replaced one mug without waiting for his answer.

"Sure."

Jenni started the coffee maker and turned to look back at him, leaning heavily against the counter, her hands pressed up against the edges. She watched Dean as he turned the small blade over a few times, inspecting his work before he slid it into his sock, hiding all but the hilt from view.

"All those yours?" Jenni asked nodding at the assortment of weapons scattered on the table.

Dean picked up his bowie, studied it for a minute, and set it back down. He picked up a cleaning rag instead as well his .45 and began to clean the barrels.

"No, some are Sam's."

"What do you use them for?" Jenni asked walking to the table and sitting down in one of the vacant chairs. She picked up one of the silver knives and turned the shiny weapon around slowly.

"Hunting." Dean finished cleaning the .45 and inspected it carefully before reassembling it and loading it with a few iron rounds.

"What are the shotguns for?"

"We load 'em with rock salt. Deters spirits, it won't kill 'em but it will slow 'em down."

"Why salt?"

Dean smirked and offered a one shoulder shrug. "Because it works?"

Jenni rolled her eyes and set the silver knife down again. "Why do you sleep with a bowie under your pillow?"

Dean picked up one of the shotguns and began to clean it. "Better safe than sorry."

"Isn't that dangerous?"

"Life is dangerous."

"Are there other people out there that do this, Dean? People that hunt these things?"

"Yeah – a few. Sammy and I ran into some about a month back."

"How do they get into this stuff?"

Dean dropped the cleaning rag onto the counter and snapped the barrels back into place. "Different reasons."

"Why do you do this?"

Dean grunted as he reached across the table for the other shotgun. He had hoped that Jenni wouldn't ask that question – but knew that it had been inevitable. "My Dad."

"Oh." Jenni became quiet as she watched Dean clean and reassemble the second shotgun before moving on to a small throwing knife. He studied that for a minute and ran his thumb along the blade before picking up his wet stone and running the blade down it in a smooth motion.

"Dean?"

"Hmm?"

"What do you use to kill a werewolf?"

"Silver bullet – straight to the heart."

"What about a banshee?"

Dean set the knife down and leaned back in his seat, flipping the lid to his wet stone and dropping that onto the table as well. "Well a banshee is a kind of a witch – so it would depend on what _could _kill it. Some witches are mortal, and a normal iron round will kill 'em." He paused as Jenni paled slightly.

Dean waited while Jenni got control of herself before continuing. "Others are a bit more complicated. A Shtriga is a kind of witch, and can only be killed while she feeds with a consecrated iron round. Other witches can be burned – I think banshees are one of 'em."

"So – if demons exist…does that mean angels are real too?"

Dean shook his head. "I've never seen one – or even heard of one being seen."

"Maybe God works in mysterious ways."

"Or maybe the things just don't exist. Look, Jenni, I'm not telling you what to believe but how can something like angels and God exist when there are so many evil things out there?"

Jenni sucked in her lips and pulled at the dead skin lining them.

"There isn't a greater good looking out for us – there's nothing to have faith in that I can see." Dean began to repack some of the weapons into the duffel.

Jenni rose from her seat and filled both mugs with fresh coffee and deposited one on the table for Dean while sipping at her own.

Dean ignored it as he replaced the last of the weapons into the duffel and slung the strap over his shoulder. He didn't bother looking at Jenni or the coffee as he slipped his thumb under the shoulder strap and left the kitchen.

Jenni sipped slowly at her coffee and stared blankly at the steam rising from Dean's untouched coffee mug, listening to Dean's foot falls as they disappeared down the hall.

***  
Moonlight flooded over the lake, making the water glisten with eerie shimmering beams. The choppy waves rolled with the gentle wind and a few dead leaves drifted about the surface. In the middle of the lake, barely visible to the human eye, a single fishing boat bobbed about the waves.

Heavy clouds drifted across the starlit sky, hiding the radiant moon behind a veil of darkness. The small fishing boat jumped on the ever increasingly violent waves. Under the cover of darkness a large shadow soared down through the clouds, it's large wings beating furiously as it dived towards the lone fishing boat.

A flash of lightening ripped through the pitch-black night followed by a loud rumble of thunder. Another bolt soon followed, lighting up the sky briefly, just as a large shadow lifted away from the fishing boat again and disappeared into the clouds.

***

A loud boom made her bolt up, clinging the bed sheet to her chest. She listened intently as the storm picked up in intensity. Tree branches scratched at the window as the wind howled menacingly and a flash of light briefly lit up the sky followed by another loud boom of thunder. A moment later the rain picked up and started pounding against the roof in heavy torrents.

Shivering a little, Jenni pushed off the bed and slipped on her bathrobe, tying it loosely, and walked to the window. She pulled aside the curtain and stared at the downpour. As she watched the moon poked through a break in the clouds turning the dark drops into drops of silver.

She found the sight mesmerizing and leaned against the large window, resting her forehead against the cool glass. A dark shadow rushed past the small sliver of moonlight, making Jenni look up at the sky. She let out a startled gasp at the large bird shape. She had never seen a bird that large, especially in these parts. The way it flew, with startling grace, was a little unsettling; she felt a shiver trail up her backbone and wrapped her arms around herself unconsciously.

As quickly as it had come, the large shadow disappeared into a cluster of trees and was soon hidden by the silver sheet of rain. Jenni backed away from the window, letting the curtain fall back into place. She felt chilled, and she rubbed her arms in an attempt to warm the cold that had seeped to her bones. It didn't help.

A quick glance at the bedside alarm clock told Jenni that she was more than likely the only one awake at this hour. A few shots of whiskey would certainly calm her nerves. Jenni slipped into her worn out slippers and made her way silently down the hall.

As she neared the living area she froze, a soft thump sounded from the kitchen. She felt her heart pick up a pace as the thump sounded again, an almost hollow echo as an unidentifiable object was slammed against wood.

Jenni looked over her shoulder to the boys' shared room, debating on whether she should wake them or try to handle this on her own. She had proven to herself that she was able to defend herself if the occasion arose, but she was unsure of what to expect.

Jenni shook her head and turned towards the living room instead and spotted an iron poker next to the fireplace. She crept over on silent feet and wrapped her fingers tightly around the cool metal. She was angry to feel her arm trembling as she lifted the poker from its place and turned it so the sharp point was barely hidden by her hip.

She made her way across the living room and peered into the kitchen, grinding her teeth together as she saw the dark shadow sitting at the kitchen table.

He was hunched over his hand wrapped around a steaming mug, and the smell of fresh coffee assaulted her. Jenni's hand fumbled along the wall until she found the light switch and she flipped it. The kitchen was alit with the soft glow of florescent light.

Sam looked up, blinking heavily behind his thick glasses. He stared at her for a moment his soft hazel eyes red rimmed with dark purple shadows lingering over his cheekbones.

"Sorry, Sam." Jenni turned the switch again sending the kitchen into darkness once more. She leaned the iron poker against the wall just outside the kitchen and stepped inside. She grabbed a mug from the cupboard and helped herself to a cup of the coffee that Sam had made, ignoring the mess of coffee grinds all over the countertop. She sat down at the table opposite the youngest brother and wrapped her hands around the warm mug.

Sam toyed with the coffee mug in front of him, spinning it first one way, then another. He didn't look up at her but stared down with unfocused eyes to the dark contents of his mug.

"Sam, what are you doing up?"

"I could ask you the same thing." Sam grumbled, his voice a little hoarse.

Jenni was a little surprised at the hostility in his voice and narrowed her eyes briefly at him. "Is something wrong, Sam?"

Sam sighed and lifted a hand to rub at his eyes. "No, not really. I'm sorry, Jenni." Sam shifted slightly in his chair for a moment before looking up and meeting her gaze.

The soft moonlight that made it's way through the small kitchen window lit up Sam's face in a soft glow. Even in the semi-darkness Jenni could see how tired the young man looked. "Just couldn't sleep?" Jenni guessed as she sipped at her coffee.

Sam gave her a one-shouldered shrug. "I guess."

Jenni studied him, knowing that he wasn't being completely honest with her, but decided not to press the issue. Whatever it was she was sure that he would tell her when he was ready, or more likely, he'd talk to his brother.

"What are you doing up?"

"Storm woke me."

"You look a little tense." Sam observed.

Jenni forced herself to relax; her shoulders slumped a little as her back muscles released from their tense position.

"Storm didn't do that, did it?"

"It's nothing, Sam. I just thought I saw something weird outside. Spooked me a little is all."

"What'd you see?"

"Just a really big bird, an owl I think. Although it was the biggest owl I've ever seen."

Sam frowned but didn't say anything.

"So what woke you?" Jenni rose to get the bourbon bottle to cover how uncomfortable talking about the large bird had made her. The image of the large animal gliding gracefully through the sky still gave her an uncomfortable chill.

"Dean's a little restless." Sam nodded when Jenni offered him the bottle. She poured a stiff bout into each coffee mug and took her seat once again.

"What do you mean?" Jenni asked sipping at her spiked brew. A comfortable warmth immediately filled her belly and worked its way through the rest of her – taking away the last of the chill that the large bird had left inside her.

"I don't know, he was just really moody – but he gets like that sometimes." Sam looked once again to his coffee and swirled around the spiked drink, not bothering to take a sip just yet.

"But that wouldn't explain why he's restless, unless you think the moodiness had something to do with it?"

Sam shook his head; he didn't want to get into this with Jenni. She was still practically a stranger to the brothers. Sure she had helped them out, and they owed her big, but he wasn't sure if Dean would appreciate him telling her their life story.

"Dean is hard to figure out sometimes, Jenni."

"Sam, can I ask you something?"

Sam eyed her cautiously and nodded slowly.

"Dean doesn't believe in God."

Sam frowned, that had not been put as a question, but rather a statement of fact. "That isn't a question, Jenni."

"Well, I was wondering why he felt that way?"

"Is there a reason you want to know?"

Jenni shifted on her chair for a minute before lifting her gaze to meet Sam's. "Yes."

Sam sighed. "Will you explain if I tell you?"

Jenni hesitated then nodded.

Sam gave her a slight nod and pushed his coffee mug away, lacing his hands together and leaning forward over the table. "Jenni, Dean has never been one for believing in something he can't see." Sam's mind wandered back to the incident with the rawhead and Roy Le Grange. He had first seen it then that Dean had had no faith in a greater good beyond this life. He had been in no condition to hide it and Sam had been terrified by the resolve he had seen in Dean's dull eyes.

He was snapped back to the present as Jenni tapped her fingernails against the polished wooden surface.

"That doesn't make sense though, Sam. How can he have this kind of job and not believe in a greater good?"

Sam shrugged. "We've never seen anything besides evil, Jenni, and we've been doing this job for a long time."

"How long?"

Sam suddenly found his fingernails very interesting. "You'll have to talk to Dean about that, Jenni."

"Have you not done this as long?"

Sam snorted and dropped his chin; he peered up over the top of his glasses and through his unruly long bangs. "No, I've been in this just as long as Dean has. But I think it will make you see why he feels this way better if you hear it from him."

"I get the feeling that Dean isn't one for opening up to people."

The corner of Sam's mouth twitched in a half smile. "True."

"Sam, I know I don't know you very well, and I don't want to pry…" Jenni trailed off, chewing on her lip.

Sam nodded, encouraging her to continue.

"Well, it just seems that you do."

"Do what?"

"Believe in a greater good – in a God."

Sam looked away embarrassed and Jenni did the same. The soft sounds of the rain pounding against the windowpane filled the silence between the two of them.

"I guess I do – or I at least hope that there's something out there." Sam admitted.

Jenni looked up to see Sam staring in the direction of the window. Another bolt of lightening lit up the sky, illuminating the kitchen briefly before sending it back into darkness. But in that brief instant Jenni had seen a tear trickling down Sam's cheek.

"Sam?" Jenni leaned over and placed a hand on top of Sam's. "What is it?"

Sam turned back to look at her, his eyes widening and dropping to look at the small soft hand holding his own. "You promised you'd explain why you wanted to know, Jenni." Sam eased out from under her touch and hid his hands under the table.

Jenni's fingers curled into her palm and dug into the soft skin there as she pulled her arm back. "Yes, I guess I did."

She made no attempt to continue though, and Sam could see her withdrawing. He knew that she wasn't ready to explain just yet. He hid a yawn under a hand and began pushing himself to his feet.

"Sam?"

"Think I'll head off to bed."

"Sam, wait." Jenni stretched across the table and grabbed Sam's bicep. He paused and looked down at her hand before looking up to meet her terrified gaze.

"Jenni? What's wrong?"

"I don't – I just…" Jenni released Sam's arm as she tried to slow down her racing heart. She had no idea what had brought on the sudden panic attack – but when Sam had risen to leave she had suddenly felt an overwhelming fear come over her, almost like a dark shadow.

Sam's eyes narrowed and he gently grabbed hold of Jenni's hand, burying it in his own large one. "Jenni, you're trembling."

"It's nothing, Sam. Go to bed, I'll be ok."

Sam glared at her and tightened his hold on her hand as she tried to pull away. "Jenni, what's wrong?"

"It's nothing."

"Jenni," Sam tried but Jenni tugged out of his hold and backed up a couple steps, holding her arm to her chest.

Sam narrowed his eyes in an attempt to see her better and took a step forward, but it did nothing to help aid his compromised vision. He strained his mind, trying to remember what Jenni could have hinted at that would explain her sudden fear. Almost as if a light clicked on, realization dawned on him.

"Jenni, you didn't see an owl did you?"

Jenni shook her head and a single tear slipped down her cheek. "No, I don't think so."

"Do you know what it was? What it looked like?"

Jenni again shook her head and looked up into Sam's face, her soft blue eyes meeting his hazel. "It looked like a bird, but the way it moved was off. I've never seen a bird move like that."

"How'd it move?"

"Almost like it was gliding – and then it dropped in a dive. It looked almost as if it had been grabbed right out of the sky." Jenni trembled and Sam wrapped his arms around her back, pulling her closer to him. His shirt was soon damp with her tears.

***

Dean stirred as the bedroom door was opened and someone entered the room. He turned halfway, one hand on his bowie and the other pulling at the bed sheet tangled around his legs.

"It's just me, Dean." Sam said closing the door softly behind him and stumbling around his brother's bed as he made his way to his own.

"Sam?" Dean's muddled brain was having trouble focusing. He lifted his left arm so he could see his watch face in the silver moonlight and his eyes widened when he saw the time. "Why are you up so early?"

"Couldn't sleep." Sam sat down on his bed with a heavy sigh and scratched the back of his neck. "Dean, I think we've got a problem."

"As if we don't have enough already." Dean pushed himself into a sitting position and rubbed his hand over his face. "What is it?"

"I think the harpy is back."

"Holy – are you serious?"

Sam nodded and took his glasses off, setting them on the bedside table. "There's more to it than that, Dean, I think the bitch is here."

"How do you know?"

"Jenni said she saw something, a large bird. She thought it was an owl at first but she thought the way it flew was a little off."

"Sam, just because Jenni thought she saw a large bird that flies a little strange doesn't mean the harpy is back."

"Dean, she was really scared."

"Sam it could be anything. Hell, it could even be a bat for all we know."

"They don't get bats up here at this time of year, Dean."

"Gee, sorry, Sam, I forgot you know everything because you went to college."

"Dean, don't start with the whole college crap tonight. That has nothing to do with this."

"Sam, we beheaded the bitch and burned the remains. That should be it, it should be over."

"I guess, but the way Jenni described this thing, Dean. It just seems too similar to the harpy for it not to be one."

"How could that thing come back, Sam?"

Sam thought about it for a minute, laying down on his bed and propping his head up on both his pillows. "Dean, did you get the leg?"

"Leg?" Dean leaned forward his eyebrows meeting together with confusion. "What leg, Sam?"

"When the harpy grabbed me I was swinging at her, trying to get loose. I got one of her legs and it fell off right before we landed."

Realization dawned in Dean's eyes and he closed his eyes in frustration. "Damn it. The damn thing resurrected itself."

"What are we going to do, Dean?"

"I don't know!" Dean snapped then pulled back when he saw Sam flinch. "I don't know, Sam." He repeated it a little more calmly. "The only thing we can do is hope that the damn thing doesn't go after anyone – or us – until we're ready to face it again."

"Dean, I don't think we have much of a choice."

"Sam, we aren't going after this thing until you're ready."

"Dean."

"No, Sam!" Dean was firm as he glared his brother down. "As long as this thing doesn't do anything we have no need to rush into trouble. It can wait until you feel like you're ready."

"I am ready, Dean."

"Sam, we both know that you're not."

Sam opened his mouth to protest but Dean held up a hand silencing him.

"Sam, I know you're worried about this, ok? I get it, I honestly do. I'm worried about this bitch being back and on the loose as well, but it won't do anybody any good if we get ourselves killed out there. We aren't ready to go face this thing again. If she starts hurting people we'll go after her, but if she doesn't we'll wait."

"Dean, do you really think she is going to give us a break? She isn't going to just wait around for us to come after her!"

"You're right, Sam. The bitch will come looking for us – or someone else. Either way though, Sam, it doesn't change anything. We need more time."

"If she goes after someone, Dean…"

"We'll go hunt her ass down as soon as we get wind of it."

"Dean, this just seems stupid. We are gambling with an innocent life so we can buy ourselves a few extra days at best."

Dean groaned and fell back against his pillow, both hands over his face. "Sam, it's five in the morning – can't this wait until later?"

Sam yawned and closed his eyes. "Sure, Dean." He turned onto his side and was soon breathing deeply as sleep claimed him. He never heard Dean sigh and get out of bed half an hour later, or the soft sound of the door clicking shut behind him.

***

Dean tugged on the pair of jeans he had swiped from his duffel and slipped into his leather jacket, pulling at the cuffs and popping his collar. He pulled the keys out from his pocket and fumbled for the key to the trunk.

He was halfway to the door when the floorboard behind him creaked with somebody's weight. He froze for a moment before spinning, grabbing hold of the shadowy figure by the neck and pinning her to the wall.

"Dean…" Jenni gasped grabbing hold of Dean's tense wrist and pulling at his strong grip.

"Jenni?" Dean released his hold on her slender throat and wiggled his fingers to release the tenseness there. "What are you doing up?"

"I heard you guys talking."

Dean frowned and noticed for the first time that Jenni was fully dressed in a black tank top with a blue denim jacket and tight blue jeans. "That doesn't explain why you're up, or why you're dressed that way."

Jenni looked down at herself before looking back into Dean's dark jade eyes curiously. "What's wrong with the way I'm dressed?"

"Nothing – what do you want, Jenni?"

"Where are you going?"

"I'm going to scout around a bit is all."

"Dean, are you nuts? You can't go after this thing alone."

"So what do you suggest, Jenni?" Dean gestured to the closed bedroom door that was hiding his brother. "You know that he's in no shape to go hunt this thing."

"No, but you aren't in much better shape, Dean."

"I'm fine, Jenni." Dean turned to head to the front door once again when Jenni grabbed hold of his arm.

"Dean, please, don't go out there. If you get hurt or don't come back we both know what that will do to Sam."

"I'm not going to let him go out there and risk getting hurt over this thing. Chances are that it isn't even the same bitch we tangled up with last time."

"That's what you guys were after? That's how Sam got hurt?"

"Yeah, this is how he got hurt, Jenni. This harpy, if it is the same harpy, is one evil son of a bitch."

"All the more reason for you to not go out on your own to face it."

Dean stared down at her, his mouth slightly parted. He seemed distracted for a moment, Jenni watched as his eyes glazed over for a moment and wondered what was going through his mind. The look didn't last long and soon Dean's eyes were once again narrowed and focusing on hers.

"I don't have choice. Sam will feel better if he knows that this thing isn't the harpy back looking for revenge."

"You don't think it is?"

"The chances of that thing resurrecting itself from just a single shriveled up leg are slim to none. But Sam's got it in his mind that the harpy has come back. It's better this way, trust me."

"I'm coming with you."

"No you're not."

"Dean, if you're right then the harpy isn't back and there is nothing to worry about. So there won't be any danger in it for me, right?"

"Jenni, I don't know if I'm right, and if I'm not I could be putting you in danger for no good reason."

"So what am I supposed to tell Sam if he wakes up and you aren't here, Dean? He's going to know something's up. He's not stupid."

"You'll come up with something."

"Like what?"

"I don't know you're pretty good at coming up with things on a whim aren't you?"

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Sam told me what you told that eye doctor down in Louisiana. Supposedly you were some snobby aunt, which would explain the fancy outfit and hairdo."

Jenni rolled her eyes. "Well I couldn't very well say that I was his sister or that I was a fugitive nurse could I?"

"Well you aren't exactly old enough to be his aunt."

"Why not? My uncle is only five years older than I am."

Dean eyed her skeptically but she just shrugged and pulled at her denim jacket, pulling the cuffs lower over her wrists.

"Whatever, I've got to get going if I'm going to get back before Sam wakes up."

"Dean, please, don't do this."

"I'll be fine." Dean turned away from Jenni and opened the front door.

The rain had stopped but the clouds were still covering the moon, making the pre-dawn hour extremely dark. Water drops fell from the edges of the roof and splattered against his popped collar, a few of them making their way down his neck.

Dean ignored them as he made his way down to the impala. He opened the trunk and pulled one of the machetes from its place. He turned the blade slowly and ran his finger along the edge. Satisfied he grabbed a sheath and tied it around his waist and slipped the machete into it. Jenni watched him from the porch, her arms wrapped around her upper torso.

Dean gestured to the woods surrounding the local area and grabbed a flashlight before slamming the trunk and sprinting off into the woods. Soon the only thing visible was the soft glow from his flashlight and that too disappeared after a few minutes.

Jenni couldn't help but feel that this was a mistake. The image of the large bird like creature once again danced across her vision and she shivered and scanned the wooded area that Dean had disappeared into. She'd give him an hour – if he wasn't back by then she was going to get Sam and they would go after him, whether Dean wanted them to or not.

Satisfied with this Jenni turned back to the cabin and headed for the living area, set on building a fire to help take the chill out of her bones, and to have something warm for Dean to sit next to once he was done scouting the woods around the area.

She knew these nearby woods well, she had walked them enough that she would never get lost. She had no doubt that she could walk the entire area with her eyes closed and still be able to find her way back. There were certain tricks she had picked up living out here to help her find her sense of direction. She always believed in being prepared for the unexpected – her parents' death had taught her that life wasn't always nice and could quickly take a turn for the worse.

Jenni put a few dry logs into the fireplace and lit a match, dropping the match onto the pine. The wood caught fire quickly and was soon blazing in the old stone fireplace. Jenni watched as the orange flames jumped and popped sending small sparks flying up the chimney.

Warmth quickly flooded the living area and Jenni repositioned herself on the couch, lying on her side and resting her head on the couch's arm. Her eyelids drifted lazily to half-mast and she continued to watch the flames bouncing about and licking at the dead wood. Moments later, as the fire continued to devour the dry pine and the cabin filled with the soft scent of burning wood and ash, Jenni drifted.

***

Sam woke late, the sun had beaten the dark clouds today and had banished away any trace of the lingering rain. Sam turned and faced his brother's bed, opening his eyes slowly. Dean's bed was empty but that didn't mean much. Sam reached over and snatched his glasses off the bedside table and slipped them over the bridge of his nose, knowing he could see better with them on than with them off. He might hate them, but as much as he hated to admit it, they did help with the strain on his eyes.

He slipped out of the room and was surprised when he found the house quiet. Not even the sounds of voices coming from the kitchen greeted him. Jenni's bedroom door was open and her bed was empty – the blankets barely rumpled.

He made his way down to the kitchen anyway, figuring if he was going to find his brother, the kitchen would be his best bet. The living area revealed a barely smoldering fire that continued to send a few sparks up the chimney every few seconds. Jenni's small frame curled up in a tight position could barely be seen over the couch back.

Sam eyed her as he made his way to the kitchen, but stopped short when that too was empty with no trace of his brother ever being there. The two coffee mugs that Sam and Jenni had used earlier were still sitting on the kitchen table and the coffee pot was still filled with the coffee that Sam had managed to make earlier. It hadn't been touched since Jenni had gotten some, of that Sam was sure.

He hurried back to the living room and crouched down next to the couch, shaking Jenni's shoulders in panic.

She was slow to wake, and the dark shadows under her eyes told Sam that she probably hadn't slept very well out here on the couch. But he didn't have time to worry about that now, Dean was gone, and he had no idea where he had gone. The irrational fear that Dean had snuck out during the night and left him made his insides clench painfully. He tried to swallow back the nausea this brought and shook Jenni again, bringing her a little closer to awareness.

"Sam?" Jenni croaked as she slowly sat up, rubbing her eyes with her fists. "What's wrong?"

"Have you seen Dean?"

Jenni yawned and nodded, stretching out her arms and popping her shoulders. "He went to scout the area."

"He what?" Sam grabbed Jenni's shoulders and shook her hard, his eyes narrowing as he glared at the young nurse. "Where'd he go? What's he scouting for?"

Jenni seemed startled by Sam's sudden aggressiveness. "Sam, what's wrong? He hasn't been gone that long."

"When'd he leave?" Sam asked glancing at his watch and cursing under his breath when he saw that his battery had died, freezing the time on one.

"About five thirty I think." Jenni glanced at her own watch and her eyes bulged, she was quickly on her feet. "Holy shit – Sam he's been gone almost four hours."

"We've got to find him." Sam didn't wait for her to argue with him, he was already jogging down the hall. He didn't bother to change out of his sweatpants but pulled his boots on without putting on socks and grabbed his tan jacket from his duffel. He was shrugging into it when he ran into Jenni in the hall. She was chewing worriedly on her bottom lip and staring intently at Sam.

"Are you sure you're up to this?"

Sam glared at her and stormed to the front door with Jenni close on his heels. "He's my brother, Jenni, I'm not leaving him out there."

Jenni pulled the door closed behind her and had to jog down the stairs to catch up with Sam. Her pace didn't slow any as his long paces took him across the yard in half the time it would have taken anyone else.

"Where do you think he is?" Jenni panted as she jogged alongside the tall hunter.

"If he went after what I think he did he could be anywhere." Sam picked up an even faster pace, and Jenni found it almost impossible to keep pace with him now. Not that she wasn't going to try.

Sam stopped not too far inside the trees and crouched down, fingering a deep boot imprint. Jenni watched him and gazed around the surrounding trees. A small disturbed path of broken brambles and scattered pine needles clearly marked the way that Dean had taken. Sam seemed to agree without her saying anything though as he quickly straightened and took off in that direction.

The two continued to make their way through the dense trees and shrubbery.

"Why didn't he wait for me? Stupid stubborn bastard." Sam muttered darkly as he brushed aside low hanging branches. Jenni ducked as he let go of one a little too quickly and barely avoided getting smacked in the face.

She jogged a few paces to catch up with him and opened her mouth to tell him to slow down a bit, when he held out a hand – stopping and silencing her with the single gesture. She saw his back muscles tighten and his jaw clenched as he stared at something that had obviously caught his attention.

"Dean," The broken tone that he used had Jenni instantly fearing the worst. She peered around Sam and found that it was suddenly hard to swallow.

An abandoned machete was on the path before them, the sheath torn and useless. Sam kept a warning hand up, keeping Jenni where she was as he made his way to the abandoned weapon and picked it up. He turned the blade slowly, noting the drying blood on the usually spotless edge.

"Dean!" The tendons in Sam's neck stood out as he spun around in a small circle, his limited vision making him very frustrated.

"Sam." Jenni gasped pointing to a fresh trail off to the left.

Sam walked closer to where Jenni had pointed and felt his throat close up when he saw the sticky substance on the bark of a tall pine. He touched the tacky substance and rubbed the blood between his fingers. Whether it was his brother's or the harpy's he wasn't sure, but either way he was determined to follow it. He would get his brother back alive.

"The blood's pretty fresh. They can't be too far." Sam picked up the pace to a jog, making Jenni run at full speed to keep up with him.

Sam found it hard to keep track of the trail. The foliage had been trampled in almost every direction he looked, and the blood was almost invisible to him. He was trusting on pure hunter instincts now. But as he jogged ahead he felt an almost invisible pull tugging him ahead.

Jenni found herself keeping as close to Sam as she could. He seemed unaware of the blood splattered all over the tree trunks and shrubberies but she could see it, and it made the woods seem suddenly menacing and terrifying. She was tempted to grab a hold of his jacket, but thought better of it. Sam had enough on his mind without Jenni's terror to deal with as well.

Instead Jenni forced her fears down and tried not to stare at the crimson stains. She hated to think what kind of condition Dean would be in if this was his blood. He would be close to death if not there already. There could be no possible way that he would survive loosing this much blood and being out here in the woods with no help for as long as he had been.

She sent a silent prayer to any God that could or would hear her, pleading that they would find Dean alive. She knew Sam wouldn't be able to survive it if they didn't. She couldn't quite place it but she had the feeling that these two had lost far too much already and weren't ready to say good bye to each other.

Ahead of her, Sam suddenly stopped, and Jenni bumped into him. Caught unawares she tipped backwards and barely caught her balance on a nearby sapling.

"Dean!" Sam was running full out now to a cluster of tall pines. Jenni stayed back for a moment, unsure if Sam wanted her to be interfering or not.

Sam fell to his knees next to his brother's limp body and lifted a shaking hand to his brother's neck, feeling desperately for a pulse. He let out a soft whimper when he found a strong steady pulse beating under his fingers.

His eyes darted over his brother's face, taking in the deep gash on his head and the blood that continued to flow into his hair, making it stick together in tacky clumps. His shirt had a few bloody tears in it and Sam could see the cuts without needing to lift the shirt. They weren't deep, wouldn't even need stitches, and had already stopped bleeding. The gashes on Dean's right arm and leg were more worrisome. Both were deep and they were still loosing blood at a terrifying rate.

Sam shrugged out of his jacket and whipped off his shirt. "Jenni!" He began to rip his shirt into makeshift bandages as the nurse joined him.

"God, Sam." Jenni was quick to analyze the situation. "We need to try to stop the bleeding." She took one of the tattered pieces of shirt Sam offered her and began to wrap up the gash on Dean's arm as Sam worked on his brother's leg. Jenni took another piece of shirt and tied it just above the wound to stem the blood flow to the injured area. Sam did the same before looking to Jenni with lost eyes.

"We'll have to carry him out."

"He might have a concussion – I don't like the looks of this head wound." Jenni leaned over and probed the red raw flesh around the oozing wound on Dean's temple. Dean didn't respond to the sudden attention and Jenni frowned when she saw Sam tensing.

"We can't take him to a hospital. We're still too hot on the FBI's most wanted list."

"We'll take care of him back at the cabin, Sam. I'm pretty sure that we are both good with a needle. We'll just keep an eye on him. If we have to we can sneak into the nearest town that's large enough to have a hospital to steal the necessary equipment we need to care for him."

Sam nodded and returned his gaze to his brother. "I'll take him." He handed the machete he had picked up earlier to the nurse who looked a little frazzled at being handed the sharp weapon. "Stay on alert, that thing is still around here somewhere."

"Why do you think that?" Jenni asked swallowing hard and gripping the hilt of the machete.

Sam grunted as he pulled Dean's dead weight over his shoulders in a fireman's carry. "Because from the looks of it Dean only injured the damn thing before it took him out, and there isn't a pile of ash for another. You have to behead a harpy with a blessed machete and burn the remains in order to destroy them."

Jenni nodded and tried to stop her hand from shaking as Sam lead the way to the trampled path from which they had just come.


	34. Chapter 34

A/N: Thanks again guys for the support for this story – and a big thanks for those who take the time to review. I'll see you tomorrow with another chapter.

Chapter 34

**Three hours earlier**

Dean crouched down examining a mark in the mud, his eyes narrowing a bit as the sun crept over the horizon making his flashlight unnecessary now. He clicked off the light and stuck it in his jacket pocket before straightening and spinning in a slow circle, frowning as he saw the damaged foliage. Something large had been down here, of that he was sure.

He didn't like the looks of it either, for all he knew this could be the same harpy and if it was he was in deep shit now. By keeping Sam back at the cabin he had left him in a position where he couldn't get hurt, but it also left him out here without backup. The smart thing for him to do would be to head back to the cabin now.

The forest around him was silent, even the birds were quiet this morning. Dean glanced around once more before turning back towards the cabin, keeping one hand on the hilt of his machete as he walked. He wasn't in a hurry to meet up with this thing on his own.

The soft mud clung to his shoes, making his pace slow as heavy clumps of earth came away every time he lifted his foot. Dean grunted and reached for a low hanging branch. It snapped easily and Dean began scraping the heavy mud off his ruined boots.

A soft wind began to blow through the trees, making remaining water drops fall to the ground and splatter into the mini puddles that were scattered all over the forest floor. Dean tossed away his stick and began his trek back towards the cabin and hoped desperately that Jenni had the good sense to brew up some coffee, he could really use some right now.

He had only gone a hundred yards or so when he heard it, a strangled gasp from somewhere off to his right. Dean paused, staying rigid, as he strained to hear anything besides his own heavy breathing. He didn't have to wait long, the gasp sounded again, followed by a cry of pain.

Dean pulled the machete from it's place and started off in a jog, knowing someone was in trouble out here. He passed several large pine trees, most of them displaying large crimson stains. He hurried his pace, knowing if all the blood covering the local vegetation was coming from the person crying out he was in serious trouble and in desperate need of medical care.

As he rounded a particularly large pine Dean came to a halt. A small man, probably no taller than five feet, was curled up in a ball on the forest floor. His hands were pressed against his bloody abdomen and his eyes were scrunched tight as blood from four long scratches that covered his entire face dripped to the dirt below.

"Shit." Dean dropped the machete and crouched down before the man, grabbing hold of his shoulder and turning him a little. "Hey – hey, can you hear me?"

"God, make it stop – it hurts." The man moaned piteously.

Dean fumbled with his pockets and cursed when he realized that he didn't have his phone with him. He began to pull the man's bloodied hands away from his middle and his eyes widened in shock at the sight of the man's exposed vital organs. How the man had survived this long was beyond him – the man had practically been gutted.

Part of the large intestine was trailing out on the ground and was being coated in mud. Dean covered his mouth with the back of his hand and looked back up to the man's face. He was surprised to see the man had managed to open his eyes, although they looked a little glassy.

"Please – don't let me die." The man pleaded as he lifted a blood coated hand and gripped Dean's wrist.

"You'll be ok, just relax." Dean knew it was a lie, but it was what the man needed to hear. There was no possible way the guy could survive, even if help was on the way now, which it wasn't.

"Tell Dolly that – that Harry's sorry. She told me…" The man was cut off as a bout of nasty coughs plagued him, splatters of blood appeared on his lips and his glassy gray eyes closed briefly before opening with obvious strain to meet Dean's once more. "Told me not to go out – even if the fish do bite better at night."

The man, Harry, or so Dean assumed, continued to hold onto Dean's wrist in a tight grip as his body succumbed to it's injuries.

"Promise – you'll tell Dolly."

Dean nodded, unsure of how he was supposed to find this Dolly or explain as to how he came upon Harry's body.

"Tha – Thank you." Harry's gray eyes rolled back in his sockets and closed halfway as he released his last tortured breath. A few flies buzzed around the body, having smelled the blood no doubt, and were darting about trying to find the best place to land and make room for their maggots. A particularly large fly landed on Harry's half open eye and began to walk about, fluttering it's wings.

Dean grimaced and pulled his wrist loose from Harry's hand. He knew he should salt and burn the corpse – but he couldn't do that now. He knew that Harry hadn't done this to himself, and the familiar scratches covering Harry's face told Dean all he needed to know. This was indeed a harpy – and it was either the same one or the damn thing's mate. Either way Dean was in way over his head out here.

Scooping up his machete from where he had dropped it Dean began to back away from the bloody corpse keeping his senses on full alert. He was in no hurry to join Harry today – nor end up in Sam's situation and get a boot up his ass for his trouble.

He turned and began to jog through the dense trees, ignoring the mud as it clung to his boots. He heard an angry screech from somewhere behind him and picked up his pace – holding up his arms as low hanging branches reached out to scratch at his face.

Dean was only a few hundred yards from the clearing when his foot caught a root and he went tumbling. He hit the ground hard, his machete flew out of his grip and the belt to his sheath tore.

Dean cursed and pushed himself up on his elbows, trying to ignore the angry burst of pain coming from his ankle. He tested the joint turning it a bit and chewing on his lip as white hot pain flared in his leg. Not broken, but a sprain or badly twisted. Either way his situation went from bad to worse, there was no way he could run on the leg if he wanted to – and it was the last thing he wanted to do at the moment.

The angry screech once again came from somewhere behind him, making his blood freeze as he looked ahead to the machete several yards ahead of him. Determined not to be another snack for this damn thing Dean dug his fingers into the ground and dragged himself forward, inching towards the machete.

He knew it would only be a matter of minutes before that thing caught up with him, and his best bet would be to kill the damn thing or to at least injure it enough to get it to back off. Beads of perspiration trickled down his forehead, blurring his vision, he could almost touch the machete with his fingertips now. One more long pull and he'd have it.

He was never given the chance. At that moment the large bird like creature appeared – shrieking angrily and flapping it's large wings at him. She stretched out her long neck and opened her large beak, revealing her razor sharp teeth.

"Holy shit!" Dean reached out, his fingers barely touching the hilt of the machete before the large talons grabbed a hold of the back of his jacket and flung him into the closest tree.

Dean groaned and fell into crumpled heap as he hit the ground, burying his face on the back of his hands and gripping weakly at the mud. _That is going to leave a mark._

The harpy snapped her beak a few times and glared down at him with strange golden eyes. Dean glanced up at her, trying not to agitate his now badly bruised back.

The harpy tilted her head slightly – her long straggly gray hair dangly down in tangled clumps. Dean wasn't sure what she was waiting for, but whatever she was doing he was sure wasn't a good thing.

The ground trembled a bit as the harpy lifted one foot and drove it back to the ground, sending the sharp talons a good couple feet into the ground. She dragged it back to her slowly and began to advance on him, walking slowly as if savoring this.

Dean groaned and searched for the machete – it was his only chance and he knew it. He could feel frustration build through him when he saw the sun's rays glinting off the silver blade clear on the other side of the small clearing. He was completely at this thing's mercy.

The harpy seemed to follow his gaze before screeching and grabbing hold of him once more and tossing him across the clearing into another tree. Dean's head banged against the unyielding wood and he once again fell in a limp heap. He could feel the blood oozing from the wound that had been torn in his temple and blinked away the stars that were dancing in his vision. He couldn't give in – not yet.

The harpy let out a soft growl and shot into the air, her large wings propelling her effortlessly. Dean coughed roughly and dug his fingers into the ground, holding on for dear life in case she decided to come down and carry him off.

He hurt – everywhere hurt, even his hair hurt. He rolled slowly to his side and opened his eyes searching for his attacker. She was no where in sight, but he could still hear the soft whooshing sounds of her wings as she circled from somewhere overhead.

He was going to die out here – the realization hit him hard and he cringed inwardly as he thought of his brother. This would destroy Sam. He knew Sam would come out here looking for him and if he was lucky he would get to say good bye to his gutted brother before Dean's time ran out.

_No – get up and fight you wussy._ Dean clenched his jaw and pushed himself up onto his elbow. Pain shot through him and he fell back to the ground, panting for air as his body protested the movement. Dean waited until he had his breathing under control, then tried again.

This time he managed to get to his knees. His brow was dripping sweat and his whole body was trembling with the effort, but he was up. He wiped the irritating trickle of blood out of his eye and scouted the sky once more. The harpy was still gliding around, biding her time as he gathered himself.

A flash of silver caught his eye and he grinned and reached over, easily picking up the machete. He wrapped his fingers tightly around the hilt and used a nearby tree to get to his feet. His knees trembled and threatened to give out but Dean ignored it and steadied his stance – the machete held up and ready.

As if sensing her prey's intentions the harpy swooped back down into the clearing and landed with an audible thump. She screeched at him, bits of saliva dripping from her sharp teeth and falling to the already muddy ground.

Dean didn't move from his position, he just stood poised and ready – his hard eyes meeting the harpy's. His fingers readjusted their position every few seconds as his palms grew sweaty.

The harpy spread her wings and flapped them at him, and let out a deafening roar. She studied him a moment longer before charging at him.

Trying to ignore the throbbing in his leg Dean charged forward to meet her, his ankle giving out on him a little. He swung the machete at the harpy as she lifted a foot to swipe her talons at him. He ducked, barely avoiding her sharp talons and felt metal connect with flesh.

The harpy shrieked as the sharp blade connected with her chest, hot blood spilled down her ugly black feathers. She hissed and swung another foot, this time the talons met their mark. They swiped down over Dean's chest.

Dean stumbled and fell to the ground, holding his torn and now bloody shirt in his hands. The slices weren't deep – he had been too close for the harpy to get a good swipe at him. Still, the scratches stung like hell and warm blood was making his shirt stick to his skin.

The harpy stretched out her neck and snapped at him with her beak. Dean rolled away from her, keeping the machete close. He rose to his feet once again and swung the machete around once, waiting for the beast to make her next move.

The harpy eyed her opponent warily – she seemed to realize that he wouldn't be as easy as her last victim had been. Dean wasn't sure if he was pleased with that or not. She was sizing him up, calculating how hard it would be to try and kill him. She had no intentions of letting him go – of that Dean was sure. She was this committed, she was willing to go all the way to get him.

She hissed and charged him, Dean ducked and rolled, bringing the machete up to connect once again with her chest. The harpy shrieked as the blade sliced through flesh and bone. She swung at him and Dean ducked and tried to get out of the way of the now enraged beast, the machete was stuck fast in her chest. He didn't see the other foot and sharp talons until they caught him.

He felt a fiery flash of pain in his right arm and leg and collapsed, trying to catch his breath. The harpy curled her neck and gripped the machete in her sharp teeth and yanked it out of her flesh, tossing it aside right next to its sheath.

Dean held a hand to his injured arm, trying to suppress some of the bleeding. He glared up as the harpy advanced on him, her golden eyes flashing dangerously. Dean waited, holding his breath, knowing that he had done his best to get back to Sam, but it didn't like he was going to succeed this time.

The harpy screeched, lunged forward and grabbed him by his uninjured left leg. Dean felt the strange sensation of flying before his head connected once more with an unyielding tree trunk and he knew no more, he didn't even feel his body hit the ground.

The harpy hissed angrily and shot off the ground, leaving a trail of bloody drops behind her as she went off to lick her wounds.

***

**Present**

Jenni darted in front of Sam as soon as the cabin came into view and had the door open before Sam had even started up the porch steps.

Sam grunted and shifted Dean's weight on his shoulders a little, gripping his brother's legs a little tighter as he started up the porch steps. He knew the blood was soaking through the makeshift bandages because they were starting to soak Sam's shirt.

"Take him to the living room, Sam. We're going to have to get him warmed up, he could go into shock. Who knows how long he was out there bleeding like this."

Sam gave her a slight nodded and headed to the living area, Jenni on his heels. He heard her stop in the bedroom and bathroom on her way but he didn't pause until he got to the living area. He studied the couch thoughtfully but then thought better of it. They wouldn't be able to work on Dean very well if he was on the couch, they would have to make him as comfortable as possible on the floor.

He deposited his brother before the smoldering fire and grabbed one of the throw pillows that had been tossed carelessly onto the floor and slid it under his brother's head. He gently peeled back each of Dean's eyelids, checking the pupils for reaction.

"Damn – he's got a concussion." Sam announced as Jenni hurried into the room and dumped an armful of towels, the first aid kit, and extra blankets from the bedroom next to the patient.

"I figured as much – the wound looks deep. He'll be lucky if he got away without a cracked skull." Jenni began to unwind the bloody tatters of shirt and tossed them in the fireplace. "Sam get a fire going will ya? We need to get this room heated up as quickly as possible."

Sam nodded and busied himself with the dead logs as Jenni began to clean out Dean's wounds.

Jenni pursed her lips as she took a cotton swab and some peroxide and began to dab at the small head injury first, pushing the wound open a bit to see how deep it went, or if any debris had managed to get inside. The wound looked fairly clean and the bleeding had finally ceased. Jenni pulled the suture kit from the first aid kit anyway as well as a pair of latex gloves.

"Is it deep enough to need stitches?" Sam asked settling himself on his knees at Dean's side. He frowned at the small wound on Dean's head.

Jenni chewed on her lip thoughtfully and prodded the wound with a couple fingers. "I think it will be ok – dig me out some butterfly bandages, Sam."

Sam did as he was told and Jenni bandaged up the gash before moving onto Dean's right arm. She shook her head as the blood continued to ooze out of the wound. "All the blood is making it impossible to see the extent of the damage – we need to clean it up."

Not needing further instructions, Sam disappeared into the kitchen and returned a moment later with a large bowl of water. He and Jenni each grabbed a towel and wetted the material and began to clean up the bloody wounds. Sam taking the leg while Jenni worked on the arm.

"Sam, this is seriously deep." Jenni said concerned as she saw the extent of the damage caused by the harpy's claw. "I don't know if I should fix this here. He needs to be in a hospital."

"I'm pretty sure his leg is in worse shape than his arm – have a look."

Jenni pressed a clean towel to Dean's arm to stem the blood flow, and leaned over to look at his leg. She gasped as she saw the torn muscles that were almost an inch deep. "Shit, Sam."

"I know." Sam muttered and looked up to stare at his brother's pale still face. "Why the hell did he go after this thing on his own?"

"Let's not worry about that now, let's just worry about getting him patched up."

Sam stared down at his brother's leg and blinked furiously at the blurry image. "Jenni, I don't know if I should do any stitching."

Jenni looked at him, her eyes studying the distressed young man carefully before finally nodding. "Ok, Sam. You need to make sure he keeps still though – because I can guarantee that he will feel these stitches. It looks like we will have to do more than basic stitching – I will have to sew some of those muscles back together, and they are going to hurt like a bitch."

"Do you have the stuff to do that here?"

Jenni smirked and pointed to her well stocked first aid kit. "I even have the dissolving stitches, that way we won't have to worry about pulling them out later."

Sam nodded and situated himself next to Dean's head, putting both his hands on Dean's shoulders, steadying him, just in case.

Knowing that the leg would be the most painful, and the most likely to bring Dean around Jenni left it for last and started on his arm. The gash was long, starting at his elbow and traveling halfway down his wrist. It wasn't as deep as the leg wound was and she knew that if had been then Dean would have been dead before they had found them. Vertical wounds on the arm were deadly serious and could cause someone to bleed out fairly quickly.

Jenni was efficient at stitching and had finished Dean's arm in to time at all. She applied some clear ointment over the seventeen required stitches and held out a hand to Sam. He handed her a roll of gauze and she expertly bandaged up Dean's arm.

"We'll need to put that in a sling when he wakes." Jenni said tiredly as she turned to the deep leg wound. "This is the one we need to be worried about, Sam. I can promise you that he isn't going to like it when I start pulling his muscles together again."

Sam swallowed hard and tightened his hold on his brother. "Isn't there anything you can give him? For the pain I mean?"

"Normally he'd be in a hospital right now where they have the right equipment to care for him properly. We don't have that here and I'm afraid if we give him anything it will be more than his shocked system can handle."

Sam blinked hard against the tears that were burning his eyes. He hated the fact that he was going to be putting his brother through unnecessary pain – but he knew that Dean would not have had it any other way. He braced himself and nodded to Jenni.

Jenni leaned forward and began to work on the leg wound, Sam watched as beads of sweat began to form on her forehead. They trickled down around her eyes and down her cheeks, melting against her tan skin.

Jenni had only finished a couple of the stitches when Dean flinched and moaned. Sam tightened his hold on his brother's shoulders and Jenni grabbed a hold of Dean's leg to stop him from jerking it away from her. "Sam – hold him!"

Sam pressed firmly against his brother's shoulders but Dean was too far out of it and jerked again at the sharp pull in his thigh.

"He's going to tear these stitches out – damn it!" Jenni put a knee on top of Dean's lower leg, pinning it to the floor. She turned to Sam, her eyes desperate. "Sam, try talking to him. Get him to calm down, or we'll never get him closed up."

Sam nodded and looked down at his brother's pale sweaty face. He lifted a hand and pressed it against his brother's forehead. "Dean – Dean, can you hear me?"

Glazed jade eyes slowly opened and darted back and forth in his sockets. Dean poked his tongue between his dry lips and swallowed hard.

"Dean?"

"Shit." Dean whispered and tried to pull away from the pain coming from his right leg.

"No, no – Dean, listen to me. Don't move, we need to stitch you up."

"Holy shit – Sam." Dean moaned and jerked before letting out a sharp gasp. He closed his eyes tightly and balled his hands into fists.

"Dean – Dean, I need you to listen to me."

Dean clenched his jaw in response.

Sam looked desperately at Jenni who urged him on.

"Dean, you need to keep still. You're hurt."

"No shit, Sam."

"We need to patch you up. Can you hold still for us?"

"Freakin' hurts."

"I know it does, Dean. I promise it won't last long."

"Shoot me."

"Don't be stupid, Dean, I'm not going to shoot you."

Dean groaned and hit his fists against the floor. His neck arched and his mouth opened to let out a strangled groan.

"Dean, just relax." Sam kept his hand on his brother's forehead and nodded at Jenni to continue stitching.

"You relax."

"Dean, you're making this harder than it has to be." Jenni grumbled as she poked the needle through the tender leg muscles.

Dean flinched and tried to pull away, only to be held down by Jenni's strong grip. "Freakin' butcher."

Jenni lifted an eyebrow at Dean, surprise at the insult. "Your welcome." She returned to her task.

Dean moaned and thumped his head against the soft pillow, but found it didn't distract him from the painful pull in his leg. He looked up to see Sam's face tight and pale and kicked himself for putting that look on his brother's face.

He hissed as the pull started again and pushed against his brother's hold on his shoulders. Sam held on tightly, refusing to let up on his brother.

"Jenni?"

"I'm not even halfway done down here, Sam. His moving around isn't helping any."

"Dean – hey, Dean." Sam waited for Dean's eyes to focus on him and offered his brother a tentative smile. "Do you remember back when I was ten and I tried to follow Dad out on one of his hunts?"

Dean closed his eyes and swallowed slowly, concentrating on his brother's soft voice and breathing deeply through his nose as the gentle tugging continued in his leg. His stomach churned uncomfortably and he felt a sudden wave of nausea hit him. He swallowed again and clenched his jaw tightly, trying to keep the bile down.

"You were so pissed when you found out that I was missing – scared you and Bobby out of your minds. I didn't make it that far – you guys found me at the bus stop."

Dean squeezed his eyes tighter and dug his fingernails into his palms.

"Sam, is he ok? He looks a little green."

Jenni's voice sounded as if it were at the end of a long tunnel and he was heading away from it.

"Dean?" Sam sounded worried and his voice too echoed. _How strange._

"Sam –"

Dean tried to listen but was finding it hard to concentrate on the voices. He felt like he was underwater, making the voices muffled and distorted.

"-his pulse?"

"Fast – too fast."

Dean decided he liked it here – the pain in his arm was gone, along with the agonizing pain in his leg and the sharp pounding of his head. It was peaceful here.

"-your eyes, Dean."

_I'm sleeping, Sam. Talk to me later._ Dean allowed himself to sink deeper, letting the darkness wash over him.

"- shock."

"Dean?"

_Not now, Sam. Can't you see how tired I am?_

"Dean – do this."

What was that Sam?

"Please – open your eyes."

Dean felt a sharp pain spike in his leg and dug his fingers into the wooden floor. _My eyes are closed? Huh, I don't remember closing them._

"Dean – please."

_Oh God, Sammy. Do you always have to talk? We'll talk later._

"Dean, please open your eyes. Open your eyes! Dean, don't you do this to me damn it!"

_What's the matter, Sam? What happened? Are you ok?_

Sam watched as Dean struggled to open his eyelids again – it took several minutes but Dean finally succeeded. His green eyes were glazed over in pain and they seemed to dart around for a minute before finally settling on Sam's face.

"Sammy?" Dean croaked his throat extremely dry.

"I'm right here, Dean. Just stay with us ok?" Sam took a damp towel and began to moisten his brother's dry lips.

Dean licked at what little moisture he was given greedily and blinked up at his brother. "Not – not going anywhere, Sammy."

"Damn straight, big brother. I'll hold you to that."

"Done." Jenni announced as she finished off the final stitch and began to wipe the clear ointment on it before wrapping it up with gauze.

"Thank you God." Dean whispered hoarsely.

Jenni smirked. "My name's Jenni, but you can call me anything you want."

Dean rolled his eyes to look at his brother – surprised to see Sam's shoulders trembling a bit and his head shaking as he tried to suppress his laughter.

"We need to get his chest bandaged, Sam. Can you sit him up?"

"No." Dean moaned as Sam slipped his hands under Dean's shoulders.

"Don't worry, Dean. I'll be right here." Sam said softly as he gently eased Dean up into a slouched sit. Dean's head rested against Sam's collar bone, his neck limp and unable to hold his head's weight. He closed his eyes and swallowed hard as Jenni approached with a pair of scissors.

"We'll have to cut the shirt off – hope you aren't too attached to it."

Dean swallowed and eyed the scissors nervously. "Jacket – where's my jacket."

"Easy, Dean. We took it off you before we started cleaning you up. It has a tear in one of the arms but it will be ok."

Dean relaxed and Jenni began to cut through the stiff blood dried shirt. She eased it off his shoulders and Dean's head turned slightly from the gentle movement of his body. He rested his forehead against the side of Sam's neck and scrunched his eyes, breathing through the worst part of the pain.

Jenni looked at Sam anxiously but he nodded for her to continue. She gently cleaned the wounds and wrapped his ribs with gauze. Dean didn't move once through the whole thing – and didn't push away when Jenni was done.

"Sam?" Jenni asked pulling off her gloves and tossing them in the fireplace where they were quickly engulfed.

"I think he passed out."

"About time – stubborn bastard." Jenni began to pack up the first aid materials and other supplies used for their emergency patch up job. "It wouldn't have been half as painful for him if he had stayed unconscious – anyone else would have had the sense to."

Sam eased his brother back to the floor and helped cover him with the blankets Jenni had brought in from the bedroom. "Dean was never one to do things the easy way."

Jenni shook her head and stood – gathering the soiled towels and the first aid kit. "I didn't think he was."

Sam gave her a sad smile as she disappeared down the hall before looking back down at his brother. Dean's skin was deadly pale and with the exceptions of the dark shadows under his eyes and Sam was sure that the skin surrounding the gash on Dean's forehead was an angry red color. Not that he could see it – but he had dealt with enough of Dean's injuries to know what to expect. "Just can't seem to catch a break can you, Dean?"

Dean's soft breathing was the only response he got.

Jenni blew on her hot coffee as she exited the kitchen, sipping at the strong brew while handing a mug over to Sam as well. It had been several hours since they had brought Dean back and patched him up and the only change in him had been his position.

Deciding that it would be more comfortable for him on the couch Jenni and Sam had gently lifted the injured man onto the soft cushions and tucked several blankets around him. Sam had brought a chair in from the kitchen and kept a constant vigil at his brother's side – either staring at him or staring blankly at the dancing flames in the fireplace.

Jenni set her mug down on the floor and pressed a couple fingers to Dean's neck and counted the steady thrumming of his heart while watching the hands move on her watch. A frown lined her face as she looked up at Sam.

"It's no good, Sam. He needs blood – his blood pressure is still too high. His heart is working in overdrive to try to compensate for the blood it has lost."

Sam frowned as he looked down at his brother his eyebrows meeting in the middle of his forehead. "Isn't there anything we can do for him here?"

"I don't think so – it's too risky. Blood clots too quickly once it's outside the body – if we inject him with unprocessed blood it could kill him. That's why blood transfusions are best left to do at the hospital. The processing procedure adds a few things to stop it from coagulating when it is given to the recipient."

"So what can we do?"

"He really needs to be in a hospital, Sam, where he can be properly cared for. I might have a medical degree but there is only so much I can do for him here."

"What would you need from the hospital."

"A few bags of blood, an IV with antibiotics and fluids to stop him from getting an infection, and painkillers. He's not going to be happy when he wakes up and feels those stitches – and trust me he _will_ feel those stitches. It is going to be almost impossible for him to move for the next few days."

"Is there a town close by that is large enough to have a hospital?"

"Little Rock isn't too far from here."

"Did you want me to go or did you want to go?"

"What?" Jenni looked up at Sam her eyes wide with disbelief. She frowned when she realized what must be going through his head. "Sam, we aren't stealing from a hospital."

"We've done it before." Sam gestured to his brother.

"Why does that not surprise me?"

Sam frowned at her. "You said it yourself that Dean needs more than what we can give him here."

"I know but…"

"Didn't you also say that we might have to go steal some things from the closest hospital earlier?"

"Sam, this is too risky."

"I'll do it – you can wait in the car."

"Sam, no."

"Fine, you stay here and keep and eye on Dean. Just give me a list of the antibiotics and fluids you want him on."

"Sam."

"Jenni, my brother is dying here! I'm not going to sit around and watch him wither away! Now you are either going to help me on this or I'm doing it on my own. Either way I can't just sit by and do nothing anymore."

Jenni nodded. "Ok, Sam. We do this together."

"Good – what do you want me to do?"

"You need to stay here and keep an eye on your brother." Jenni snatched the faded leather jacket from the lounge chair and dug around in the pockets until she found the keys to the impala. She palmed them and dropped the jacket back on the chair again as she turned to face Sam.

"Jenni, I don't think you should do this on your own."

"Sam, I can work my way around a hospital. I've been doing it for a few years now."

"Yeah, but you haven't been on the FBI's most wanted list for a few years."

"Neither have you, Sam."

"No, but Dean and I have more experience in dealing with these things."

"So what do you propose we do, Sam?"

Sam frowned and turned to stare at his brother's pale unconscious face.

Dean stirred slightly on the couch, his body shifting the blanket a little. Sam quietly reached over and pulled the blanket over his brother's shoulders again. "What about a transfer? Hospitals transfer medical supplies to clinics that need them don't they?"

"Sam, to even begin to pull that off we'd need the forms – which we don't have and a doctor's signature."

"Where do you get the forms?"

"From the clinics or hospitals themselves."

"Could we make one – I mean do you know what they look like?"

"Of course – why does that make a difference?"

Sam rose to his feet and hurried down the hall, returning a moment later with his laptop. He powered it up and began working furiously over the keyboard.

Curiosity getting the best of her Jenni walked around and leaned over Sam's shoulder – her eyes widening as she saw the program and document Sam had created.

"Does it look like this?" Sam asked indicating the blank boxes that would need to be correctly labeled.

"Make this box a bit skinnier." Jenni indicated and Sam did as she instructed. "Add another box in there – but we don't need this box down here."

Sam computed the form as Jenni directed and when she was satisfied he handed the laptop over. "You'll need to fill in the boxes."

Jenni dutifully labeled each blank box and added the needed items in the correct spot. Sam helped her by putting in Dean's blood type, and soon the form was completely filled out with the exception of the box indicating the required doctor's signature.

"What are we going to do about the signature, Sam?"

Sam pondered carefully for a minute before his soft hazel eyes sparked and he took the computer back, leaning closer to the screen so he could see the small words a bit better. A moment later he turned the screen to Jenni, who dropped her jaw in shocked surprise.

There was a signature in the box – and it was as close to a hand signed signature as they could possibly get.

"Sam, how in the world?"

"A few tricks I picked up from Dean during high school." Sam's eyes trailed back to his brother and lingered there.

Jenni didn't bother pressing for details. "We have wireless Internet here, I think we do anyway, but we could e-mail this to them. There is a medical center in Little Rock – the UAMS Medical Center. It's fairly close."

"Do you think they would go for it?"

"It's the best shot we got – here let me see the computer."

Sam handed it over and Jenni worked quickly in getting the document loaded and sent to the local hospital.

"There – that should do it. They should have our supplies ready before I even get there."

"Just be careful, Jenni."

"Don't worry about me, Sam. Just take care of your brother – and if anything changes call me."

Sam nodded and watched as Jenni shouldered her purse and hurried out of the small cabin, closing the door quietly behind her.

A moment later the impala's engine growled to life and Sam waited, alert, until the sounds of the impala disappeared.

***

The minutes passed slowly for Sam. He alternated between sitting in the hard wooden chair next to the couch to pacing the length of the living area with his hands clasped behind his back. He couldn't help but feel jittery about this, it just felt wrong to send Jenni out to do something like this on her own with no form of back up whatsoever.

Dean had remained deadly pale and uncharacteristically quiet – something that had Sam clinging to his hair in frustrated desperation. Dean was never quiet, he was never still. Dean was action – Dean had to be doing something at all times. Sam rarely saw his brother just sit down to relax, even when watching TV Dean usually had his hands wrapped around a bottle of beer or tossing some sort of salty snack into his mouth. When discussing a case Dean usually sat on one motel bed with their scattered array of weapons dumped on the other while Sam sat at the table with his laptop.

Sam never really noticed it before, it had just been something Dean had always done. Sam missed that now – if Dean were awake he would no doubt be giving Sam hell for worrying over something that either brother could do with ease when neither of them were injured, but now neither of them were in any shape to do much of anything.

Sam paused in his pacing to check on his brother, laying a gentle hand on his brother's warm forehead. Dean didn't stir as flesh met flesh. Sam frowned and placed a fresh compress upon Dean's brow, hoping to bring the slight fever down before it elevated to a degree that would make it difficult to combat.

Dean protested the cool moist towel and Sam nodded before picking up his pacing once again. He had to keep Dean with him, keep him fighting. A couple of times Sam had tried to wake him, needing to keep a close eye on his concussion. Dean grumbled every time Sam shook him and would open one eye halfway and mumbled the answers to Sam's provided questions before drifting again. Sam wasn't sure if it was because of the concussion he had or because his body was unwilling to face the agony it was bound to be in.

Either way made Sam anxious, the fact that he was stuck here and unable to do anything to help aid his brother in any way made him feel worthless. If the situation had been reversed and he had been the one out cold on the couch he was sure that Dean would have been doing something more constructive than wearing a hole in the living room rug.

Dean always seemed to keep his head in a time of crisis. At any age Dean had always been in control of any emotion riding through him no matter what the situation. Sam had seen Dean angry plenty of times, and worried too of course, but Dean was never one for full blown out panic. He managed to suppress those feelings in order to keep Sam calm.

Sam couldn't count the number of times that John had come back to them broken and bloodied. He had watched Dean help John struggle into the room on several occasions, never faltering as John staggered and weaved about. Dean would take John to the bathroom or bedroom and shut the door behind him, keeping Sam out while he patched up their injured father.

The memories of those long nights were not something Sam liked to remember. He could recall sitting at the rickety old motel tables, his knees drawn up to his chest and his hands covering his ears as his father's barely suppressed moans and curses escaped from behind the closed door.

After what seemed like hours Dean would finally emerge clad in fresh clothes and looking very tired. He carefully hid the worried lines that had creased his forehead as soon as he caught sight of Sam at the table, instead he put all his energy into calming his distressed brother, reassuring him that Dad was just tired and would need to sleep for a couple days.

The brothers would stay in the kitchen until Sam calmed down enough for them to go to bed. Dean would always keep between Sam and John, not wanting Sam to see their father lying so still and pale on the spare motel bed. Sam had never argued against this, always trusting Dean blindly until he had hit fourteen and realized that Dean wasn't a superhero. He had still looked up to his brother - hell, he still did that now, but he had learned that big brother didn't always have the answers and sometimes Dean wasn't always right.

Dean had always said that Sam hit the stubborn age at fourteen, always questioning everything they did and fighting against everything John ordered them to do. It infuriated John that Sam would set his jaw and dig in his heels, refusing to follow obediently as Dean always had.

Sam paused his pacing to look back down at his brother, frowning as he saw droplets of water slipping from the cloth and trickling to the couch cushions below. He settled himself on the edge of the couch cushion and pulled away the compress, and laid the back of his hand against Dean's brow. Although damp and clammy thanks to the compress, his skin was still too warm to the touch.

He walked down the hall to the bathroom and grabbed a fresh washcloth. He moistened it under the cool water and hurried back to his brother, laying the cool cloth against Dean's brow. Dean flinched and moaned as the cool material touched his hot skin.

Sam settled himself onto the kitchen chair, sitting just on the edge so his knees touched the edge of the couch. He watched as Dean battled his personal demons in delusional nightmares. Dean's head twisted violently on the throw pillow it was resting on, his eyebrows narrowing in distress.

"Dad – Dad…"

Sam felt a jolt as Dean cried out for John. Being injured and delusional with fever had let Dean's walls down and all Dean's pains and fears were displayed for anyone in the immediate proximity. Suddenly Sam was glad that Jenni had been the one to go get the medical supplies. He didn't like the idea of the young nurse sitting in on Dean's delusional nightmares while Dean was powerless to stop them. It was bad enough that he was bearing witness to them.

Dean jerked again on the couch, dislodging the carefully placed blanket that had been covering him. Sam shot into motion, instantly beside his brother and placing a steadying hand on his brother's shoulder while tugging the blanket over Dean's torso once more.

"Easy – take it easy, Dean. It's ok."

Glassy jade eyes peeled apart and focused on him wearily. Sam could see the effects of the fever taking hold of his brother with a single look. Dean's eyes moved sluggishly, carefully looking over Sam's face before settling on his eyes.

"Dad."

"Shh, just take it easy, Dean. Don't try to talk."

"Dad, I'm sorry – I'm sorry that I couldn't do it."

Sam's forehead crinkled in confusion. "Couldn't do what, Dean?"

"Protect him – couldn't protect Sammy, Dad. I'm sorry."

Sam swallowed hard at that and had to fight at the angry tears that burned his eyes. "Dean, you don't need to protect Sam." Sam knew it was wrong to take advantage of Dean right now, obviously Dean had no idea that he was really talking to Sam, but rather thought he was speaking to John.

"Course I do – it's my job." Dean closed his eyes and licked at his dry cracked lips. Sam pressed a cool moist towel against his brother's parched mouth and leaned forward, trying hard to keep his voice steady.

"Dean, your brother can look out for himself."

Dean shook his head weakly, pulling way from what little moisture the towel was providing. Small water droplets glistened in the firelight as they trickled down the sides of Dean's jaw. "No – made me promise."

"Promise what, Dean?"

"Made me promise." Dean repeated his eyes drifting to half-mast as weariness took hold.

"Dean?"

"I promised I'd take care of him – look out for him."

Sam dug his teeth into his bottom lip, frowning as Dean babbled incoherently for another minute or so before he drifted into oblivion again.

He reached forward and pressed a couple fingers to his brother's neck, feeling his stomach twist with anxiety as he felt the fast thready beating of Dean's heart. He glanced up at the door – wondering where the hell Jenni was. He hoped that her mission to get medical supplies wouldn't take her too long. He was unsure of how long the trip to Little Rock itself would take, and if she was questioned, or stopped along the way it would take her that much longer.

Sam studied his brother's still form for a moment and worried his lip as he watched Dean's still form. He glanced again in the direction of the front door – he hoped that Jenni came back soon. If she wasn't back soon – Sam hated to even think it but couldn't help but feel that Dean would be beyond any help they were capable of.

"Hurry, Jenni." Sam said quietly as he resumed his unconstructive pacing across the room.

***

Jenni tucked a loose strand of hair back into the tight knot on the back of her head and studied her clothes in front of the mirror, frowning a bit and pulling her jacket tighter over her blood stained shirt. She wasn't in a hurry to alarm anyone here at the clinic and someone covered in blood like she was would surely raise suspicions and awkward questions.

She buttoned up her denim jacket efficiently hiding all but one of the bloody spots on her shirt that was too high to be hidden, but it was small enough that it wouldn't draw too much attention. Satisfied she left the small bathroom and headed down the hall to the nurses' station. She felt her heart thundering in her chest as she neared the station and the white haired nurse who sat there.

The nurse looked up at her skeptically, her eyebrows rising and her lips pursing in annoyance as Jenni approached. Her emerald eyes were dull and red rimmed with dark purple bags lingering just above her protruding cheekbones.

"Do you have an appointment?" The nurse in a tone that clearly indicated that she'd rather be doing anything else but talking to Jenni.

Jenni smiled at her anyway and nodded. "Yes, I'm here to pick up some supplies. We sent an e-mail about forty minutes ago."

The elderly nurse lifted one eyebrow and turned to her computer, clicking a few things before bringing up the e-mail that Jenni had sent. She leaned closer to the screen as if scouring for forgery. Jenni held her breath, the document that Sam had made was duplicated almost perfectly, but a well-trained eye would be able to see the difference.

After a moment the older nurse leaned back and nodded. "Dr. Jackson needs these things does he?"

"Yes, we had an accident and the patient is in no condition for travel – we're doing all we can for him, but our supplies are limited."

"I need to know the condition of the patient and what happened before I can give these to you." The nurse took out a blank file and tapped it against the patient's name line. "Can I get the name of the patient?"

"Jack Winfield." Jenni was surprised she was able to come up with something on the spot, but she knew it would be stupid to use the names that Sam and Dean had used before they had been caught by the FBI, surely the police would be keeping an eye out for those names at any hospital or clinic.

"Uh huh, and what happened?"

"We're not sure exactly – he was brought in by his cousin with a severe head wound, slashes across the chest, and deep wounds to both the right arm and leg. As far as we can tell it was a wild animal attack on a couple of hikers."

"How much blood has he lost?"

"He had lost quite a bit before he had been brought in and was still bleeding before we managed to close him up."

"I'm assuming high blood pressure is a result of the blood loss?"

"Yes."

"Ok, I'll be right back." The woman rose slowly and walked slowly out of the station, favoring her left leg and holding a hand to her hip.

Jenni let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. She had expected a few questions, the nurse would have been sloppy if she had just handed over the supplies without getting some sort of information from her first.

She looked around the small almost deserted waiting room. An old man with a beard that touched the middle of his chest was leaning over and mumbling to himself while playing with his fingernails, and a mother was trying to quiet her complaining child with no success.

"Excuse me, miss?"

Jenni turned back to the nurses' station expecting to see the white haired nurse but was taken aback when she encountered a tall man standing in a lab coat with a package in his hands. He smiled at her, his brown hair combed back neatly into small spikes and his soft brown eyes sparkling a bit in the dull hospital lights. Jenni couldn't remember how to breathe for a moment, but when she did she found it almost painful.

"You were here for the supplies right?"

Jenni nodded and held out her arms for the package.

"I'm Dr. Burken, call if you need anything else."

"I uh, thank you." Jenni felt heat rise in her cheeks as she studied the handsome face of the young doctor.

"It's no problem." Dr. Burken gave her a crooked grin that spread to his eyes as Jenni continued to gape at him.

"I should, uh, probably get going." Jenni said shaking her head as though to clear it and backed away a few steps before turning and walking back to the front doors. She felt the handsome doctor's eyes on her back as she left the clinic.

Once out in the cool autumn air she found her head clearing and hurried her steps, knowing that she had to get back to Sam and Dean as quickly as possible. She knew that if Sam was anything like his brother he would be going stir crazy having to sit there and being unable to help his brother.

The impala's door creaked as she opened it and sank down behind the wheel. She slipped the key into the ignition as she shut the door once more and started up the engine. She smiled as the impala's engine grumbled to life and growled softly while it idled. She rubbed her hands lovingly over the steering wheel, she could easily see why Dean loved the classic, she was a beauty. Even better than her mustang and she loved that car beyond all reason.

Glancing at her watch, she swore silently, yanked the impala into gear and gunned the engine – shooting the classic forward in a deafening roar.

***

He felt stiff and heavy, his limbs felt oddly disconnected from his body, and every move was sluggish. There was no agonizing pain as there had been the last time he had been awake and aware and for that he was grateful. He tried to move but found it almost impossible, he couldn't even open his mouth to protest as his jaw seemed to be locked and his mouth was full of cotton. He let out a soft irritated grunt and heard someone next to him stir.

"Dean?" Sam's voice was hoarse and sounded exhausted.

Dean struggled to open his eyelids, feeling as though a ten-pound weight was sitting on each one. It took quite a bit of effort but eventually his lids pulled apart and he was able to see the vague outline of his brother leaning over the edge of the couch, his eyes blazing with concern. He grunted again and strained to move his body, the tendons in his neck popping out hideously as his body remained unresponsive. He panicked and felt his breathing pick up as Sam's hands clamped down on his uninjured left arm.

"Dean, Dean – don't you'll hurt yourself. Just relax." Sam lifted one hand and pressed it against his brother's forehead, keeping Dean's head pinned to the soft pillows he had been resting on.

Wide blown panicked eyes darted over to him and Sam felt his stomach clench at the unsuppressed fear that Dean was displaying.

"Dean, you're drugged out of your gourd here. You're on antibiotics and painkillers you were torn up pretty good in the woods – you remember that?"

Dean's eyes began to dart around the room, his panic was the verge of causing him to hyperventilate.

"Dean, look at me – Dean!"

Dean slowly met his brother's gaze once more, his neck straining once more as he tried to move his body – or at least open his mouth to voice his protests.

"Dean, if you don't calm down Jenni is going to kick me out – you need to breathe. Can you do that for me? Breathe deep, Dean, like this." Sam demonstrated an exaggerated breath and watched while Dean tried to mimic the move. "That's it, Dean, now another one. That's it."

Dean grunted and managed to part his dry lips, letting extra oxygen pass over his dry tongue.

"Don't try to talk just yet, Dean. Just take it easy – you've been through hell today."

Dean wasn't going to argue with that, he felt like he had been through hell after facing the harpy. He closed his eyes and scrunched them tightly for a few minutes while focusing on his breathing. He could feel Sam's eyes on him and worked on suppressing the panic that had risen when he had found that he hadn't been able to move at all.

When he opened his eyes again he was in much better control of himself, Sam seemed to notice this and gave his brother a slight frown, but released his hold on his brother's forehead. He kept his hold on his brother's arm, however, and Dean was grateful for it. Although he would never admit that out loud.

"You are one stubborn bastard you know that, Dean?" Sam's anger was so sudden and had bubbled out of him so quickly that Dean's eyes widened in surprise.

"Don't you give me that look, Dean. What the hell were you thinking? Going after that hell bitch on your own?" Sam glared down at his brother, knowing he was taking advantage of the situation, since Dean couldn't defend himself at the moment.

Dean looked at him with knowing eyes, he was too tired to offer more than a simple look. Even the occasional grunts he had managed to squeeze out were requiring too much energy from him. Instead he just laid there and let Sam vent, knowing that Sam needed to get it out of his system, they could discuss it more thoroughly when Dean wasn't so numb.

"You could have been killed out there, Dean! You are such a selfish bastard – you think this is going to bring Dad back? Getting yourself killed? What the hell would I have done if I hadn't - ?" Sam's eyes watered and he closed his eyes briefly and dropped his head, his shoulders trembling a bit as he tried to get a hold of himself.

Dean watched him as he tried to get control of himself once more. By the time Sam had managed to suppress most of his emotions Dean was finding himself drifting on the verge of blackness again as the drugs continued to pump through his system.

"Get some rest, Dean. We'll talk later." Sam said softly as he watched Dean's eyelids begin to droop even further down.

Dean didn't need any further instructions and found himself once again bobbing along in the dark confines of his mind.

***

Sam relaxed when he saw his brother drift off once again. He ran a hand through his messy mop of hair and sat back on the kitchen chair. His eyes drifted from his brother's pale face to the IV lines that were trailing from his brother's left arm and eventually led to the floor lamp they were wound around.

The blood bag would need to be changed soon, but the antibiotic bag seemed satisfactory and would hold out for a while. Sam leaned forward and grabbed the plastic tubing, feeling it the way Jenni had showed him to test for air bubbles or clots that would be hazardous to Dean or would stop the flow.

He found nothing to be worried about and decided that a fresh cup of coffee would do him some good. He gave his brother a semi hesitant glance before turning to the kitchen. He automatically trailed his hand against any guiding walls, although he was getting more adjusted to his glasses and only had trouble seeing items that were far away.

The kitchen window was open and the sound of crickets chirping right outside the back door greeted him as he flipped on the light switch automatically. He headed for the kitchen sink and coffee maker.

He was reaching for the coffee grinds in the cabinet when the creak of a floorboard told him he was no longer alone. He paused and looked over his shoulder to see who his visitor was. He squinted as he tried to make out the fuzzy outline leaning casually against the doorframe.

"Sam, you ready for a break yet?" Jenni's soft voice was still laced with sleep.

Sam shook his head and returned to pulling the coffee grinds from the cabinet. He knew that Jenni was concerned as he hadn't moved from Dean's side for most of the day. He had only asked for a couple of bathroom breaks and had made Jenni promise to be with Dean while he was gone, which she did, but once he was back he resumed his constant vigil over his brother.

Jenni only came in to check on the bags that she had attached to Dean almost immediately upon her arrival earlier that evening. She would check Dean's pulse and nod in satisfaction before winking at Sam and leaving him alone again. She seemed to know that he wanted to be alone with Dean, and for that he was grateful. He didn't ask what she was doing all alone in the bedroom, and she didn't offer any information.

The corner of Sam's mouth twisted in a slight smirk. Jenni reminded him a lot of Dean, it was almost like having two Deans for roommates. Although Jenni wasn't nearly as protective of him as Dean was. That was something Sam was grateful for, he didn't think he'd be able to live with an overprotective brother as well as an overprotective nurse. Dean was bad enough at times.

"Sam," Sam felt a soft hand on his shoulder and turned to look at Jenni, setting the coffee grinds on the countertop. "You need to get some rest."

"I'm fine, Jenni." Sam insisted and wrinkled his brow as he tried to remember where the filters for the coffee machine were. Jenni handed him one wordlessly and he proceeded to fill it with some of the coffee grinds, only spilling a half a scoop onto the countertop.

Jenni wiped the spilled grinds into her hand and tossed them into the sink as Sam proceeded to start the coffee maker.

"Sam, you aren't doing Dean any favors by wearing yourself out. You're exhausted."

"He's going to need his blood bag changed soon." Sam said avoiding the topic.

"I'll make sure it's taken care of. Seriously, Sam, don't you think you should try to get a little bit of sleep? Dean is going to need a lot of help over the next couple of days and you'll need your strength in order to do that. I don't think he'd really appreciate me helping him to the bathroom or showering."

Sam let out a dry chuckle. "He won't like it any better if I do it."

"Maybe not," Jenni pursed her lips as she thought about it. "But he's going to have to rely on you, Sam."

Sam shook his head and dipped his chin slightly. "Why'd he do it, Jenni? Why'd he go after that thing?"

"I'm sure he had his reasons, Sam."

"Yeah – stupid ass reasons like getting himself killed." Sam scoffed. He folded his arms across his chest and stared in the direction of the back door.

"I don't think that's why he went out there, Sam. I don't think he'd want to leave you here alone."

"He could've fooled me."

Jenni's eyebrows wrinkled in confusion as she studied the youngest brother for any trace of sarcasm, but was surprised when she found none. "What are you talking about, Sam? Why would you think that?"

Sam shrugged but didn't offer her an answer. He continued to stare at the back door, as if considering actually going out into the cool night air. Jenni shuddered at the thought, she didn't want Sam out there on his own after what had happened to Dean.

Jenni stepped forward and grabbed a hold of Sam's shoulders, squeezing gently and bringing his gaze down to meet hers. "Sam, why would you think that Dean would want to go get himself killed? Why would he do that?"

"Doesn't matter." Sam shrugged out of her grasp and pulled a coffee mug out of the cupboard and filled it with the fresh hot brew.

"Yes it does, Sam. Dean would never go out there and kill himself. I don't understand why…"

"It's none of your damn business!" Sam snapped suddenly cutting Jenni off mid sentence.

Jenni's jaw snapped closed with an audible click and she stared in wonder at the young man before her. He was trembling as anger ripped through him, even the coffee mug was trembling in his grasp. She took a step back uncertainly as Sam set the coffee mug down and pushed the brim of his glasses up on his nose so he could rub at his eyes.

"I'm sorry, Sam. I didn't mean to overstep my bounds." Jenni said quietly.

Sam didn't relax from his tense position, he rubbed slowly at his eyelids as if trying to control something that only he was aware of.

"Call me when the blood bag is empty and I'll change it." Jenni turned and left the kitchen, leaving Sam to his own devices.

Sam felt himself trembling as anger ripped through him and tightened his hold on the edge of the countertop, focusing on controling himself before he did something really stupid, something he'd later regret. He was finding it hard to do, so much had come down on them all at once and he was finding it almost impossible to control the urge to hit someone.

Jenni had been close enough that he could have taken a swing at her, but he had withheld. None of this was her fault, and she had been nothing but helpful throughout this whole thing. If he had clocked her one he would have felt extremely guilty for taking his anger out on her.

He turned slowly so he was facing the counter, his fingers digging into the edge as he ducked his head down to his chest, drawing in deep breaths.

He could feel all his suppressed emotions bubbling to the surface in one desperate act to escape. It wasn't fair – he couldn't understand why all these things seemed to hit all at once. First with this hunt from hell with one of Satan's minions and it had all gone downhill after that. What with his eyes being damaged and loosing his sight, then being caught by the FBI at the hospital and having to escape to this cabin in the middle of nowhere. His slow recovery was making him limited as to what he could do to help his brother right now. Although Sam was seriously going to rip into his brother for being so dumb once Dean was more aware of what was going on.

Anger gripped him once more and he reached for the closest thing to him – it just so happened to be his untouched coffee mug. He hurled it at the far wall and felt some satisfaction when it smashed as it hit plaster and paint. Dark coffee stained the wall and began to run down to the floor in several rivulets before it pooled into a dark mess amongst the several glass shards.

He took several deep breaths in through his nose and turned towards the back door once more, before making up his mind and storming to it. He hurried out into the cold night air and leaned against the deck banister, staring off into the pitch black that seemed to surround him.

The cold night air swallowed him and he felt a small shiver run through him as he dug his fingers into the unfinished wooden banister. Bits of splintered wood dug into his skin but Sam ignored it and shut his eyes, breathing deeply through his nose. He would stay out here until he was good and calm, until he knew for sure that he wouldn't bite Jenni's head off, or take a swing at his brother just out of principle alone.

A soft wind rustled through the surrounding trees and tossed about Sam's hair, making it tickle his face. Sam felt himself relaxing with the calmness of the night, enjoying the soft sounds of the nocturnal creatures as they emerged after their long day of rest. Sam put more weight on the banister and gave a small grin as the night echoed with several creatures' voices - it was quickly putting him at ease.

Dean, of course, wasn't into the whole nature thing, and to be honest it wasn't Sam's first choice in a good time either, but he had learned to appreciate the whole thing while he'd been with Jess. The two of them had often taken long walks after it had grown dark, finding the stillness rather peaceful as other students of the campus returned to their dorms or drifted off to sleep.

The thought of Jess made his insides burn with guilt and regret. He would never admit this to Dean but he still ached for her companionship, he had been so happy when he had been with her – when she had been taken from him she had taken a large part of him with her. A part that had hoped one day to be normal, a part of him that he had hoped would return once they killed the yellow-eyed bastard who had taken her from him.

But after John's death, Sam was finding himself back pedaling. Perhaps John's death was a kind of omen, a sign that he could never have what other people took for granted. Every time he got close to someone they ended up getting hurt – or worse getting killed.

Sam worried about Dean for this reason. With how wrapped up Dean was in the guilt that had followed John's death, Sam knew that Dean wasn't totally in the game – or worse was too far into the game to pull out. Dean seemed overly eager to hunt anything and everything that popped up on the radar, when he had heard of the cattle mutilations back in Montana he had literally leapt out of his chair at the prospect at a hunt.

Sam had seen the way Dean had literally thrown himself into the heat of the hunt, how he had enjoyed using the chainsaw to kill the one vampire with blood splattering everywhere like a bucket of paint had burst. He hadn't been able to hide how worried he had been about his brother, and he knew that Dean had seen it – it had reflected back in Dean's eyes. But Dean hadn't backed off until Gordon had attacked Sam, using him as bait for Lenore. Dean's recklessness had cost him a few bruises and some split skin that time, but on the whole Dean had come out on top – but how long would that last?

This hunt could have cost Dean his life – hell, it would have if Sam hadn't gone out there to look for him. Dean had been loosing blood at a rapid pace and could have bled out within a short amount of time if Sam and Jenni hadn't gotten him back to the cabin and patched up. Sam sighed and looked up to the millions of tiny sparkling stars that twinkled against the dark sky.

He knew Dean wasn't out of the woods yet, his brother was still sick and weak – not to mention would be an ass once he was awake and aware, and feeling those stitches they had patched him up with. Dean was a bitch when he was in pain and was a very difficult patient to deal with.

Sam hated to admit it but he felt tired – he wanted to do nothing more but bury his head under his pillow and stay like that until his vision was back to normal and Dean was healed up. But the reality was that he knew it wouldn't be possible. Dean would need him around, whether he wanted to admit it or not, and Sam knew he would feel better if he was helping his brother rather than lying around feeling sorry for himself.

Thinking of Dean made Sam loosen his hold on the banister and turn back to the cabin, knowing he had been away from his brother longer than he had been all day. He should get back to him in case Dean woke up again. Dean hated being injured or sick to the point where he was flat on his back and helpless – but he hated being helpless on his own more than that. Even if he put on a bravado for anyone who might be in the immediate vicinity.

Sam entered the dully-lit kitchen and winced when he saw the broken mug and spilled coffee had been mopped up. A fresh cup of coffee sat for Sam on the countertop and the milk sat beside it. Sam poured some milk into his coffee and put it back in the fridge. He stirred at his coffee as he left the kitchen and headed to the living room.

Jenni was there and had apparently just finished changing the blood bag for Dean. She looked up at Sam as he studied her from the far wall, coffee in his large hands.

"He should be good for the rest of the night, Sam. If anything changes – let me know."

"Jenni, I'm sorry that I – that I smashed the coffee mug."

Jenni lifted an eyebrow and pursed her lips as she studied Sam carefully for a moment. She eventually shrugged her shoulders and pulled a blanket over Dean's shoulders. "It's just a mug, Sam, it can be replaced."

Dean mumbled in his sleep and turned his head in Jenni's direction. Jenni frowned and placed a cool hand against his forehead, but relaxed when she couldn't detect a fever.

"How is he?" Sam asked stepping forward and leaning over the back of the couch so he could study his brother through narrowed eyes.

"He's fine for now. I gave him another dose of painkillers – that should keep him out for the rest of the night. Watch for fever and watch his right ankle – I saw it was swollen a little while ago. He must have twisted it or possibly sprained it while he was out there. It's wrapped but make sure ice stays on it for now."

"Jenni?"

Jenni had been starting down the hall to the bedrooms but paused when Sam called her. She turned and looked at him, her eyes a bit colder than Sam was used to, but he supposed he deserved that.

"Jenni, I didn't mean it – you know, back there in the kitchen? I was just…"

"It's fine, Sam. Like you told me earlier – it's none of my damn business."

Sam studied her, his soft hazel eyes pleading with her, but Jenni ignored them.

"I'm going to bed, Sam. If you need a break come get me – you know where my room is."

With that Jenni turned away from the brothers and continued down the hall, where a moment later her door was shut a little harder than necessary.

Sam frowned as he turned to look at his brother, he didn't deserve any better after what he had said to her, but she was so like Dean it was unnatural. Dean often needed time and space to cool off when he was pissed and it seemed like Jenni was no different. He would give her time and then try to apologize properly later. Maybe a few hours of sleep would help cool her off.

He resumed his seat next to the couch, nursing his coffee and trying hard to keep his eyes open. He felt so tired, and the strain of the glasses was starting to take its toll. He wasn't used to having to wear them all day – he would have to get more accustomed to them.

"Don't know how you can stand being with a female version of yourself, Dean." Sam chuckled as he sipped at the hot brew. "One of you is bad enough."

The soft crackling of the fire and Dean's deep breathing answered him. Sam shook his head once and leaned back against his seat, fighting his heavy eyelids. He'd stay here for another hour or so before asking Jenni to take over for a while. He could use a few hours of rest – Jenni was right, if he knew Dean, which he did, he would need his strength to battle his brother into letting him help him. His body ached with the thought and his weary mind began to entertain him with less stressful things as a way of distraction. Sam let his eyes close and sank a little further into the chair. Yep, one more hour would be acceptable. He was sure Dean would understand.

***

A cool hand rested on his forehead, bringing him back into a world full of hurt. He groaned and worked at opening his eyes, although the signals from his brain were being blocked as his body stubbornly refused to cooperate.

"Take it easy, Dean." Jenni's soft voice floated to him in a haze and he felt himself stiffen slightly as Jenni's hands slid down his chest and lifted the bandages to examine the wounds there.

He took stock of himself while Jenni was occupied, his lips pulling into a frown as a slight headache started behind his eyes, beating in time with his heart. But that pain he could deal with, he went further down, letting out a soft grunt when Jenni touched a particularly painful slice on his chest.

The throbbing there too was manageable, he was sure that it was swollen – he felt inflated like he was a helium balloon. It was an extremely strange feeling, he didn't think the skin on his chest could swell anymore even if he wanted it to. He was sure if it did it would certainly bust at the seams and he would come apart completely. Still, the pain was mild in comparison to the agony ripping through his right arm and leg.

Those were going to be a problem, he gasped as a particularly nasty throb of pain hit him. His stomach twisted and nausea hit home. He tried to sit up but was immediately pushed back with Jenni's soft but firm hands. He gagged as the bile rose, burning his throat and making his eyes water. Tears streamed out from behind his closed lids and he clamped his lips together in an effort to fight the urge to throw up all over the petite nurse.

His efforts were in vain and he found himself unable to stop the flood that was threatening to drown him. He shot up and heaved, his head hanging over the edge of whatever he was lying on. He could tell it wasn't the floor but he was sure it wasn't his bed either. The room felt too warm for it to be the bedroom and the smell was different.

He gagged again and tried to push down what was left in his stomach but a soft hand rubbed at the back of his neck and between his shoulder blades, muttering quiet reassurances.

"Just get it all out, Dean. It'll be worse if you hold it in."

Dean couldn't have ignored her instructions anyway. The pain was agonizing and his body was rebelling against it in any way it could. He heaved again and spat out the remaining acidic remnants. He laid back, spent and weak against soft pillows while trying to get his breathing under control.

He flinched as a cold compress was placed upon his brow, unable to suppress the shiver that rippled through him.

"Can I get you something, Dean? You want some water?"

Slowly, and taking far more energy than it should have, Dean opened his eyes and Jenni's concerned face swam into view. He soft blonde hair was sitting on the back of her head in a tight bun, and she was clad in a spaghetti strap and light cotton pajama pants. She had a few worried lines creasing her forehead, and light purple bags under her eyes – but she was alert, and her soft blue eyes betrayed her concern.

"Sam…" Dean moaned his eyes roaming the room for any trace of his brother.

"He's sleeping – he was up most of the night. He's just over there." Jenni nodded to the lounge chair where Sam was sprawled and covered with a light blanket. His head was turned towards the couch and his mouth was slightly open, his breathing soft and even in sleep. Dark wavy strands of hair had trailed across Sam's forehead, hiding half of his face behind the dark locks.

Dean strained to look at his brother before settling back into the couch cushions, frowning slightly at Jenni.

"How'd I get back here?"

"Sam and I found you out in the woods – you were hurt pretty bad, Dean. Sam carried you back and we patched you up."

Dean lifted a hand to rub at his forehead, trying to ease the pounding that was drowning out almost everything else. "How long have I been out?"

"Almost thirty hours – but the painkillers had a hand in that."

Dean dropped his hand again and blinked heavily at Jenni, his expression clearly puzzled. "I don't really remember – it's all kind of fuzzy."

"Probably due to the concussion you have, you really took a nasty knock to the head, Dean. Could have cracked your skull."

"Did I get the bitch?" Dean asked reaching for the compress but Jenni smacked his hand away. He winced and settled for a glare while Jenni fidgeted with the blanket resting over his torso.

"Sam doesn't seem to think so – he thinks you injured the harpy, but didn't finish her off."

Dean frowned, he was sure there was something important he was forgetting, but he couldn't remember what it was. It was irritating, almost like an itch he couldn't reach to scratch. His foggy brain was sluggish and making it hard to think through the events of the previous day and the hunt with the harpy.

All he seemed to be able to remember clearly was telling Jenni that he was going off to finish off the bitch himself and heading for the impala to get the supplies. He didn't even remember making it to the woods – but he was sure that something had happened that he was supposed to remember, something that he had promised he would do.

Save Sammy? No – that was back in the hospital with Dad. He shuddered remembering, it wasn't exactly a pleasant memory and he hated remembering about how he had promised his Dad that he would either save Sam or – or, well, he didn't even want to finish that train of thought. It wasn't going to happen, not on his watch. He would save Sammy, he swore to himself that he would, because the alternative wasn't possible. He couldn't do it, no matter what he promised, he'd rather die.

"Dean, are you cold? Do you want another blanket?"

"No – I'm ok." Dean muttered staring off at the far wall, his brain working as though it were stuck in molasses.

"How bad is the pain?"

_God, make it stops – it hurts._

The soft words disappeared as quickly as they had come and Dean stiffened, his eyes narrowing as he tried to grab a hold of whatever it was he was trying so hard to remember. He was pretty sure that that voice had something to do with it, it seemed so familiar. It had made him promise to do something, but that was still out of his reach.

"Dean?" Jenni leaned in further her hand resting gently on Dean's bandaged torso, searching his face for signs of discomfort. "Are you ok?"

_Blood was everywhere, bloody hands were clawing at him – gray eyes were pleading with him. Begging him to do something. _

Dean groaned and lifted his hands to his eyes, pressing hard against them in an attempt to remember.

Jenni leaned over, grabbing Dean's wrists in her small hands. "Dean? What is it?"

Dean's wide blown eyes traced over to Jenni's worried ones, his mouth opening and closing is silent gasps.

_Please – don't let me die._

"Oh, God." Dean squeezed his eyes shut as horrific images of a small terrified man lying on the forest floor assaulted him. He felt Jenni's soft hands gripping his shoulders, but couldn't hear anything besides the heavy pounding of his heart in his ears and the last desperate cries of the dying man he had come upon.

_Tell Dolly that – that Harry's sorry._

"Dean? Are you ok? Dean – Dean!" Jenni watched in horror as Dean's face went deadly pale before his eyes rolled into the back of his head and he went limp in her arms. "Oh, God." Jenni lowered Dean back onto the pillows and placed a couple fingers against Dean's clammy skin along his neck, chewing desperately on her lip as she felt his racing heartbeat.

"Sam – Sam!"

Sam started in the chair, sitting up in a half sit and blinking his eyes heavily as his fogged brain tried to catch up with his body. Jenni kept her hands on Dean as she looked to the younger brother, desperation creeping through her as Dean began trembling under the blankets.

"Sam – I need your help here."

Sam looked over at her, still blinking sluggishly. He seemed to be having trouble coming around to the land of the living, not that Jenni could blame him. The kid was exhausted from being up and caring for his brother all night, but unfortunately Jenni didn't have time to be patient with him.

"Sam, I need help now! Get over here and help me."

Realization dawned on Sam's face and he was immediately on his knees next to the couch, one hand on Dean's forehead as Dean arched his neck and bucked under the sheets.

"Jenni – what is it? What happened?" Sam watched in horror as Dean's arms and legs began to jerk uncontrollably.

"He's seizing – damn it!" Jenni glanced at her watch before looking at Sam, feeling her stomach twist at the desperation and anxiety rolling off Sam in waves. "It'll be ok, Sam. We just have to get him through this – he'll be ok."

Sam nodded, but didn't look convinced. Jenni knew that the only person who could convince him that everything would be ok was currently in no condition to say so.

A rattling wheeze sounded in Dean's chest and white bubbles began to flow out of his partially open lips.

"Damn it, Sam – we have to turn him, he's choking." Jenni grabbed Dean's shoulder and roughly pulled him onto his side. A foamy substance began to make its way out of Dean's mouth and onto the couch; Sam grabbed a towel and held it under Dean's cheek to save the couch cushion.

"Why's he seizing?"

"It could be a number of things, Sam." Jenni waited for the inhale of breath, but when none was forthcoming she gave Dean a soft whack in between his shoulder blades. He gave out a rough cough and choked harder on the bile that was building in the back of his throat. Jenni gave another whack, a bit harder this time, and Dean expelled more of the foamy substance onto the towel Sam was providing. A soft shaky inhale followed and the spasms in his arms and legs subsided.

Jenni took in a deep breath and nodded to Sam who looked as pale as his brother was. Sam was barely able to control his own shaking as he wiped the last of the foamy residue from the corners of Dean's mouth.

"He'll be ok, Sam. That wasn't a bad seizure – and it didn't last very long. He's ok."

Large hazel eyes rose and locked gazes with her; the moisture in them was barely suppressed. "What happened?"

"His fever has risen a bit – but I think it is probably the head wound. I didn't like the looks of it yesterday – I should have kept a closer eye on it, damn it!" Jenni rubbed the back of her hand across her eyes trying to steady her own quivering nerves.

"Jenni?"

"He needs to be in a hospital, Sam. We can't do much for him here and he's suffering because of it." Jenni sighed and sat on the arm of the couch, looking down sadly at Dean's prone form. "He's in a lot of unnecessary pain that could be taken care of if he were in a clinic. We don't have the proper equipment to monitor him here – and it makes the chances of something like this happening again more probable."

"He won't go, Jenni."

"Damn it, Sam, he's in no shape to argue. We don't have a choice here anymore. We've done the best we can for him here but obviously it isn't enough. He was throwing up this morning, which means his head injury is getting worse, not better. We need to take him in."

Sam looked down at his brother, fighting the irritating voice telling him to just try and ride this out – the voice that sounded like Dean. He knew Jenni was right, they needed help and if they held out to see if Dean would start to get better on his own they could very well jeopardize Dean's health, something that Sam wasn't willing to do.

"Where can we take him?"

"We'll take him to Little Rock, it's the closest city with a hospital. I'll call ahead – let them know we're coming. They already have Dean's case on file."

"What name did you give them?"

"Jack Winfield." Jenni shrugged. "Best I could do on the spot."

Sam shook his head and wadded up the soiled towel he had been holding. "No – that's fine. We'll figure out how we are going to deal with the insurance later."

"We need to get going, Sam. The sooner we get him there the better."

Sam nodded and slipped his hands under his brother's back and knees.

Dean groaned as his injured leg was jarred with Sam's movements.

Jenni lifted the blanket and examined Dean carefully before nodding to Sam. "He's ok, Sam. Let's go."

Sam lifted his brother into his arms, cradling Dean against him and stood slowly, staggering a bit under Dean's weight. Dean's head lolled against his collarbone and rested in the crook of his neck, his soft breathing reassuring Sam as he stumbled his way down the hall to the front door, with Jenni right on his heels.

Jenni dodged around him as they neared the front door and had it open before Sam had reached it. He cautiously made his way down the front stoop and towards the impala, Jenni once again darting ahead and opening up the back door so he could slide in easily.

Sam settled himself as comfortably as he could on the backseat with Dean's head cradled on his lap. Jenni made sure Dean's legs were as comfortable as she could make them in the cramped space of the backseat before she settled a blanket over Dean's torso and closed the door. She slid in behind the wheel a moment later and started the black classic and shot it forward.

Sam winced as the impala smacked off the driveway's curb with a jarring impact. He knew that Dean had to have felt that, and his beliefs were confirmed when Dean stirred – moaning softly and twisting his head on Sam's lap.

"Just take it easy, Dean. We're going to get you help." Sam assured, placing a large hand on Dean's forehead.

Dean's mouth opened part way and his eyelids fluttered. Sam watched as Dean's eyes slowly opened, pain brimming from the glassy jade irises. They pleaded with Sam, and he mentally kicked himself while trying to suppress his own feelings so as not to agitate his brother any further. The fact alone that Dean was looking at him like that, with those open desperate eyes made Sam feel sick. It was the closest to help that Dean would ever come to asking – and Sam couldn't do anything to help aid him, rather than support him.

"It's ok, Dean, we're on our way to get you help."

"How is he?" Jenni asked looking at Sam in the rearview, her soft blue eyes blazing with concern.

"Go faster." Sam said quietly, never once looking away from Dean's desperate eyes.

Jenni slammed her foot against the accelerator, making the impala shoot forward with a throaty grumble.

Dean hesitantly lifted one hand up, grabbing at the collar of Sam's shirt, gripping it tightly in his fingers. He opened his mouth as though to speak but shut it again slowly, as if the effort was too much of a strain for him to handle.

Sam blinked away the tears that were stinging his eyes, not wanting to let them fall, not wanting to appear weak when Dean was so helpless to hide his own. He needed to be strong for Dean now; Dean had been strong for him for so long, it was time for him to return the favor. He tried to ignore the death grip that Dean had on his collar, although it was hard to ignore the way Dean's fingers were twining with the cotton.

"Just hold on, Dean – you'll be ok." Sam whispered, unable to suppress the trembling in his lower lip.

From the corner of his eye, Sam saw Jenni holding a cell phone to her ear and speaking urgently to whomever she had called, but Sam couldn't make out the words. A strange buzzing had filled his ears and that was only broken by the wheezy gasps that penetrated from his brother's lips.

"God, Dean, why'd you do it? You stupid bastard." A single tear slipped, trailing down his cheek and running over his full lips. He licked it away and held his brother tighter, staring into the glassy jade eyes that were no longer focused on him, but rather the far corner of the impala.

"Sam, how's his pulse?"

Sam uncurled his fingers from Dean's shirt and lifted them to his neck. "It's still really fast, Jenni."

Jenni repeated Sam's words into the phone and said something about Dean's breathing that Sam didn't catch. He instead looked out the window for a brief moment, watching the scenery go whipping by in a blur. He was sure that Jenni was breaking every traffic rule in her rush to get Dean help, a look around Jenni's petite form confirmed that belief as the small needle was on the far right of the speedometer.

He knew what Dean would say if he could see the way Jenni was abusing his baby, but fortunately for everyone else in the car, Dean was too far out of it to pay anything much mind. His breaths were increasingly shallow and his gaze stayed locked on whatever had caught his attention. He blinked slowly, and each time his eyelids lowered just a little bit further, as if the effort of keeping them all the way open was too much for him to handle.

"Just hold on, Dean, it won't be too much longer, ok? Just hold on."

Slowly – as if it were a great effort, Dean turned his eyes so he could look at Sam. They were still blazing with pain and it made Sam's insides ache – he was finding it close to impossible to meet his brother's gaze. Still he couldn't look away either, something was keeping his eyes locked on Dean.

The corner of Dean's mouth quirked in a half smirk and his eyes closed. The death grip Dean had on Sam's flannel shirt loosened and his arm slipped down Sam's chest, until it rested on Sam's lap.

"Dean?" Sam's voice trembled in hesitation. He moved Dean's slack arm out of the way and placed a hand to Dean's clammy neck, holding his breath as he waited for the throb of blood to greet him. The pulse was rapid and uneven, it made Sam's blood chill.

"Jenni – how much further?" Sam looked desperately up to the rearview mirror, and met Jenni's soft eyes as she looked up to gaze back at them.

"I don't know, Sam. What's wrong?"

"He's getting worse – he's slipping."

"Shit." Jenni once again slammed against the accelerator and the impala immediately responded to her commands. "He still wheezing, Sam?"

Sam lowered his head and tilted his ear next to Dean's mouth. Small puffs of warm air escaped Dean's partially open lips, but they were too small – and his breathing too rapid. Alarm bells were ringing in Sam's head, warning him that Dean was in trouble.

"Something's wrong – he's having trouble breathing."

"What do you mean?"

"He's breathing too fast – like he can't get in enough oxygen." Sam was starting to panic as a gray tint had started at the corners of Dean's mouth. "He's turning blue."

"Damn it – the seizure caused him to vomit and some of it must still be lodged in his throat, blocking the airway."

"What can I do?" Sam was ready to shove his fingers down Dean's throat if he had to.

"Elevate his head and try your best to get his neck in a position where he can get more air. Don't stick your fingers down his throat, chances are that he will bite you and could seriously injure your hand – and we have enough problems as it is."

Sam tried shifting Dean's dead weight to a better position but was finding it difficult to do. Dean was extremely limp and flopped about like a fish out of water. Sam settled for pulling Dean up against his chest with the back of Dean's head resting on his shoulder, he tilted Dean's chin a little to give his airway a bit more space and Dean's breathing eased.

The position was awkward at best, and Sam found it extremely uncomfortable to be smothered back here with Dean crushing him, but he didn't dare jostle his brother either.

"Keep an eye on him, Sam. Make sure he doesn't inhale any of the crud in his throat – if he breathes enough of it in he could suffocate before we get him to the hospital." Jenni warned not looking back at them.

As if he had needed anything else to worry about. Sam swallowed hard and watched as his brother's chest rose slowly and steadily under the dark t-shirt he was wearing. The bluish gray tint around Dean's lips was slowly turning to a healthy pink now that more oxygen was flooding his system, but Sam wasn't going to take any chances.

"How much further?"

"About twenty minutes if we don't hit any barriers." Jenni shot a quick glance in the rearview before directing her gaze to the road before her once again.

"Hear that, Dean, we'll be there in no time. They'll take care of you – we'll beat this. Just hang in there, Dean."

In the front seat Jenni glared out the windshield, swallowing hard at the emotion she felt rippling through her with Sam's desperate attempts to keep Dean fighting. She blinked away the angry tears that had started to burn her eyes at the unfairness that the universe had thrown at these two – they deserved so much better. She ground her teeth together and slammed her foot on the accelerator, hoping to get them to the hospital before something else happened. In his current condition, Jenni wasn't sure that Sam could handle it.

***

Waiting was always the hardest part of being in a hospital. Jenni was still trying to get used to being on the outside looking in rather than on the inside looking out. It was quite a different feeling to be waiting anxiously for the news on someone close to her. She didn't often let herself open up to anyone – Dean was the first person she felt like she had really connected with in a long time, and the waiting was grating on her last nerve.

On the far side of the waiting area, Sam was faring no better. He paced relentlessly up and down the small room, hands clasped behind his back and his head tucked down so his chin was resting on his chest. His eyes were focused on the linoleum floor – narrowed in thin slits and half hidden by the dark bangs that continuously fell over his forehead.

Even from across the room Jenni could see the anxiety lines creasing his forehead and the way Sam's front teeth burrowed into his bottom lip. She was surprised that he hadn't drawn blood yet. She was sure that his eyes had to be bothering him by now – they had left the glasses back at the cabin in their haste to get Dean to the hospital and they hadn't brought any medication with them.

Sam had taken care of the insurance by digging up a new card from the glove compartment – ignoring the astonishment that had risen on Jenni's face as she saw the small box containing all the fake ID cards. He had squinted but failed to read the name on the card until Jenni finally read it to him – and assured that it would work for now, Sam had stuffed it into his back pocket beside his wallet just as two orderlies had come rushing out of the doors with a gurney for Dean.

Sam hadn't spoken to Jenni at all upon their arrival – he had sat beside her for a while but then had picked up his pacing to pass the time – stopping only to harass the poor white haired nurse who was, once again, stationed at the small desk next to the door with the **No Admittance** printed on it. Jenni almost felt sorry for the nurse, but her feelings were quickly suppressed as the chalky face turned her way with blazing eyes, Jenni almost felt violated with her glare.

Jenni knew what was happening to Dean in the back room – although she didn't feel inclined to say so to Sam. She had seen enough in her several years as a nurse to know what actions needed to be taken to get Dean stabilized. He'd be ventilated of course, and all the mucus and bile would need to be sucked from his airway, blood would be another immediate as well as other vital fluids. He'd go in for scans to make sure that there were indeed no cracks in his skull – and if it was determined that there wasn't Dean would be sedated and left to rest while one of the many doctors working back there would come out here to give them the news.

However, if there was a crack in Dean's skull the results would take longer. The doctors would need to analyze the situation and determine if the crack was serious enough to have to operate to make sure there wasn't any internal swelling. Brain swelling was always a possible risk – and could cause permanent damage later on if not taken care of. Jenni winced as she thought of what Sam would think if he went into Dean's room and found Dean attached to the required machines that would help reduce any brain swelling that could have occurred. She wasn't sure that he would be able to handle that.

The ventilator and other necessary machines to stabilize Dean without a cracked skull would be bad enough. Jenni frowned as Sam's pacing stopped and he turned slowly to look at her, his soft hazel eyes red rimmed and a few tears leaking down his cheeks.

"Sam?" Jenni was immediately concerned and rose to her feet – she grabbed hold of Sam's shoulders and directed him to the closest chair without any resistance. "How bad is it?" Jenni asked knowing full well what had stopped Sam's determined back and forth trek. The pain had to be bad – and Sam was in no condition to hide it from her.

"It's bad, burning is back. Can't see much – it's all fuzzy."

"You've put too much strain on your eyes today, Sam. Probably set back your recovery for a bit." Jenni turned to look at the nurse who was staring at them – although she quickly turned away when Jenni's eyes met hers, trying to pretend as though she hadn't been watching.

"Can you call a doctor – he needs some attention."

"No, no – I need to be here when they are done with, Dean."

"Sam, you won't be doing him or anyone else any good if you are in this much pain. Let the doctor help you and I promise I'll come find you if they let me know what's going on with Dean."

Sam groaned but nodded once as more painful tears escaped his bloodshot eyes.

"What the hell are you waiting for?" Jenni snapped looking back at the white haired nurse who hadn't moved an inch. "Get the damn doctor!"

The nurse scowled at her but rose from her station and limped through the swinging doors.

Jenni redirected her gaze to Sam, digging her fingers into Sam's shoulders to help steady him as he slumped forward, his hands over his eyes.

"Sam, don't touch." Jenni pulled his hands away and held them down with one hand while holding him upright with her other. "You'll just irritate them more, the doctor will be here soon – he'll take care of it."

"I'll be ok – just need to know about Dean. Why haven't we heard anything about Dean?" Sam pressed out between his clenched teeth and then emitted a soft groan of barely suppressed agony.

Jenni wasn't stupid enough to believe that Sam was ok – he was no where near ok, but until he heard about his brother he was bound to be stubborn.

"These things take time, Sam. They are probably getting him situated. It shouldn't be too much longer now."

"What's the problem here?" A soft vaguely familiar voice asked gently next to Jenni's left shoulder. He had come in so quietly that Jenni hadn't even heard him approaching them.

Jenni turned to see the handsome face of Dr. Burken, whose eyes were narrowed as he studied Sam's pale face and red eyes.

"He hasn't had any medication for his eyes all day – they were injured a while back and he's on prescription glasses, but he forgot to bring them."

Dr. Burken nodded and gripped Sam's elbow, helping the ailing hunter to his feet. "We'll get you something." He turned to Jenni. "Do you know what pain medications he was on?"

Of course she knew, she had been his attending nurse of course – but by saying so she would be admitting more than she should about these two brothers. She kicked herself as she shook her head, chewing on her lip.

"I remember what it is." Sam mumbled lifting a hand to his eyes to try and suppress the burning there.

"Ok, let's get you settled first and then we'll see to your eyes." Dr. Burken easily led Sam out of the waiting area and through the swinging doors, leaving Jenni alone.

***

It seemed like forever since Sam had disappeared behind the swinging doors with Dr. Burken. The tiles had long ago lost the interesting designs and the speckled ceiling had more than five thousand, six hundred and something dots – Jenni had lost track and didn't want to start over again.

The magazines provided held no interest for her, and the coffee she had had a little while ago was making her jumpy with anxiety. She had heard no word on Sam or Dean and was starting to get edgy, feeling as though something had gone wrong.

The white haired nurse had gone off duty for her lunch hour, leaving Jenni completely alone in the waiting area. She was surprised that no one had come out to cover the nurses' station while the sour faced nurse was gone, but with her attitude, Jenni decided that it must be hard to find someone to cooperate schedules enough to work with her.

She had the urge to page Dr. Burken out to the waiting area, but thought better of it. She didn't work here – and it would be an unwanted interruption if he was with either of the brothers. She settled back against the seat, sighing slightly and bouncing her knees up and down as she waited for his return. She was hoping that Sam was feeling better and would come out to keep her company soon – he hadn't been much company before with his lips locked and his relentless pacing, but it had been better than sitting out here by herself. At least she had had someone she could have talked to if she wanted.

Jenni settled for resting her elbows on her knees and running her fingers through her short tangled locks, her tight bun had long ago come undone. She pulled absent mindedly at the knots she found, wincing when she hit a particularly nasty one. She pulled a few loose strands out and dropped them on the floor, chewing on her lip as she stared at the boring tiles.

The sound of approaching footsteps was so soft that Jenni didn't look up – afraid that she was imagining the sound with the hopes of news on either brother.

"Any word on Dean?" Sam's soft voice cut through the fog that was slowly working it's way over her.

Jenni looked up to see Sam settling on the chair next to her. She noted that his eyes, although tired looking, were no longer bloodshot and his face had lost the painful kinks and had smoothed out to the handsome face she had grown so accustomed to. She shook her head and slowly sat up, brushing Sam's broad shoulder as she settled against the back of her chair.

"No – but it shouldn't be too much longer."

"Hey, Jenni?"

"Yeah?"

Sam was studying his hands, playing with his fingernails. "I'm sorry – about last night. I didn't mean it."

"I know that, Sam. It's ok."

Sam shook his head once and looked away from his hands, slowly turning his head in her direction. "No, it's not."

Jenni met his gaze evenly, determined not to push too far but knowing that Sam needed to know that she wasn't holding anything against him. It always took her a bit to cool down but she had stopped being angry shortly after getting ready for bed.

"Sam, I have no right to pry – I don't blame you for being upset about that."

"It's not that – I was just worried I guess." Sam's top teeth skimmed over his bottom lip.

"You still are, Sam – we both are."

"I know we are – but I don't think we're worried about the same thing."

"What do you mean?"

"Jenni, Dean and I – well, we lost our Dad not too long ago. Dean hasn't been handling it very well."

"I'm sorry, Sam." Jenni knew those words were automatic, but she really did feel sorry for these two. She knew what it felt like to loose a parent, and it wasn't something you got over quickly.

"We never got along – my Dad and I. Dean did though, he worshiped the guy – did everything Dad ever asked of him without question. It used to make me angry, you know? It didn't matter what Dad told him Dean did it without question. Dad never really treated him like a kid – more like a soldier in a war, and I guess in a way that's what he was doing. Preparing us for this war."

"What war?"

Sam rubbed the back of his neck and swallowed nervously. "Against the things we hunt – with what we do. We needed to be ready – as long as I can remember that's all he had us doing. Training sessions, drills, hand to hand combat, weapons practice…when we got older - Dean started going out on hunts with him and I was left with one of Dad's friends. Dean came back hurt a few times – but he was always so proud that he had made Dad proud."

"Sam, can I ask you something?"

Sam gave her a slight nod, not meeting her eyes.

"What happened to your Dad?"

"He was possessed by a demon – he tore Dean up pretty bad. We were on our way to the hospital and a truck hit us – Dad and I made it out of it ok, but Dean didn't. He was in a coma – and the doctor told me not to hold out on the hope that he would wake up."

"Oh, Sam." Jenni's voice was barely louder than a whisper.

"Dean's heart stopped once – but they brought him back, he was still fighting really hard to stay with us. One night I went to find Dad and he was gone. I didn't know where he was – he had just disappeared into thin air – I went back to spend time with Dean and a couple hours later he woke up."

"Just like that?"

"Yeah, and what's more is he was all healed up – the raw wounds on his chest and the gash on his forehead were the only indicators that everything had actually happened. He told me that something felt off – that something didn't feel right, but couldn't place it." Sam's eyes glazed over a bit as he thought back to that day in the hospital, standing next to his brother's bed, watching as Dean wrapped a protective arm around his stomach, as though trying to suppress whatever was bothering him with the simple gesture. Sam had felt his own unease when Dean said that, but was unsure of why he felt that way – it was a natural instinct he supposed. When Dean was worried about something, Sam automatically worried about something.

"Dad came in then – and I was mad. Mad that he had snuck off, I'm guessing to find the demon. He was so mad at me for not killing that thing after what it had done to Dean. But it was like he didn't even care – he didn't even look at Dean when we got in the car – he just kept bitching about how I hadn't taken out the demon. I tried to pick a fight with him and he asked if we could just not fight for once – I should have known then that something was wrong. Dad was never one to back down – he had always been one to stand firm and meet me head on, but he was right – half the time I never knew what we were fighting about, just butting heads."

Jenni leaned forward and rested her hand on the back of Sam's squeezing it gently. Sam looked up and gave her a sad smile.

"I went to get him some coffee – and when I came back, he was gone. I don't even know how it happened. He wasn't in Dean's room, but in his own and he was on the floor – I called for help but it was too late. Dean was there when – when they called it. He hasn't been the same since."

"What do you mean?"

Sam swallowed and rubbed the back of his hand against his left eye, trying to think of a way to describe it without it sounding nuts. "Dean has never been one to open up – he's always closed himself off when it comes to how he feels about things, but after Dad died it's been worse. He's…" Sam hesitated trying to find the right word to describe it. "He's broken, but doesn't want to show it."

"Can't you help him?"

"I've tried to, Jenni, believe me I've tried. But he makes it so impossible to discuss. Every time I try to bring up the subject he turns it around on me, accusing me that it is my guilt that is plaguing me and I'm just dumping my issues on him."

"Do you feel guilty, Sam?"

"Why shouldn't I? I always resisted Dad – always! Never did anything without question. Even went out of my way to piss him off just because I could. Hell the last time I saw him I tried to pick a fight – I wanted Dean to see how obsessed Dad was with finding this demon – so obsessed that he would leave Dean alone fighting for his life while he went out for this stupid macho showdown."

"Why?"

"Because that's just the way Dad was – that's how he acted. It was like he didn't give a damn that Dean was dying as long as he got his way – as long as he ended this fight. I wanted Dean to see that – and now I'm really sorry that I tried to start something. He probably died thinking that I hated him."

Sam's voice cracked and a lone tear streaked down his cheek, and fell onto his dark t-shirt.

Jenni felt her insides twist with raw emotion for Sam, she had had no idea that he was carrying this around with him – that he felt this strongly about the subject. Although she hadn't spent a lot of time with Sam alone, she was usually with both the brothers – with the exception of her two nights filled with erotic fun with Dean.

"Sam," Jenni lifted a hand and cupped Sam's cheek in her palm, lifting Sam's head a little so his eyes met hers. "I know it isn't easy feeling this way – but I'm sure your Dad knew that you loved him."

"Did he?"

"Sam, your Dad might have known that he wasn't perfect, and that you didn't always agree with the decisions he made – but he knew you loved him."

"How could he?"

"Anger is a very passionate emotion, Sam – even if it isn't one that you would like to be remembering about your Dad. You might have been angry with him a lot – and yes you guys might have fought often, but that doesn't mean that you didn't love him. I'm sure your Dad knew that – and I'm sure he saw a lot of himself in you."

"How would you know?"

Jenni gave Sam a small timid smile. "I can get a good sense of who people are without knowing them very long, Sam. Dean is a protector – he's always putting himself in harms way to keep you safe. He doesn't need any other motivation than you. He puts you before himself because you're his brother, and that is a big responsibility to him. Because you're the last of his family he is so much more determined to keep you safe. Family is important to Dean – I can see that in his eyes every time he says your name, there is this spark that is impossible to miss."

Sam felt his eyes widening in surprise, but said nothing.

"Back when your eye injuries were still new I felt drawn to you and your brother. There was a bond between the two of you that I had never seen in siblings before and it intrigued me. The way Dean sat at your bedside, refusing to move unless it was absolutely necessary – but even then the breaks were few and far between. Dean hated to let you out of his sight. Whenever we went in to check on you Dean watched us constantly, as if he were just waiting for us to make a wrong move – I was the only one who broke through that protective barrier, although I'm not sure why. But for some reason, Dean trusted me more than he did the others."

Their conversation was interrupted as the white haired nurse limped through the **No Admittance** doors and made her way back to the nurses' station. She glowered at them and held a hand to her aching leg. Jenni responded with a cold look of her own, making the nurse turn away.

"Dean has always been there for me, always watching out for me." Sam said quietly.

"He worries about you, but I get the feeling you can take care of yourself. You've got this independent streak in you that stands out defiantly, Sam. You like being able to do things for yourself and that is part of what makes you who you are. You're more relaxed than Dean is, and if you don't mind me saying so…" Jenni trailed off as she looked into Sam's hazel eyes, he stared back unblinkingly.

"You're eyes aren't as hard as Dean's are – they're softer, more innocent somehow."

Sam reared back, caught unawares by Jenni's words. "I, uh…" Sam stuttered, unsure of what to say to that.

"They're a bit haunted though, like Dean's, although his pain is more suppressed than yours – hidden behind protective walls. But still – you've lost someone else you've loved, someone besides your Dad. Not too long ago either I'm guessing."

Sam swallowed and looked away. "How do you know all this?"

Jenni shrugged and glanced at her watch. "I told you I can read people, it's something I've always been able to do."

"Listen, Jenni, I don't really know if – if you…"

"I won't tell Dean about this, Sam."

Sam nodded once. "Thanks."

Just then the swinging doors opened once again and Dr. Burken stepped out, pulling off his rubber gloves and stuffing them in his pocket. He nodded at the white haired nurse before heading over to Jenni and Sam, his face somber.


	35. Chapter 35

Chapter 35

Dr. Burken grabbed a chair and sat in front of Jenni and Sam, leaning forward slightly and forced the corners of his mouth up. It didn't meet his eyes though, Jenni and Sam immediately saw through the façade.

"How is he?"

"He's resting, but stable." Dr. Burken scratched absent-mindedly at the back of his hand, focusing on Jenni for a moment. "You said you were his attending?"

Jenni nodded.

"Did he have any seizures other than the one we know about?"

"Not that I'm aware of." Jenni looked at Sam who shook his head.

"Well, it appears as though it were a bad one. The head injury, of course, was the cause of it. We have him on a ventilator because he seemed to be having trouble breathing. Did he vomit during the seizure?"

"Yeah he did, but I don't think it all came out. He was having trouble breathing in the car on the way over."

Dr. Burken nodded. "We checked his airway and lungs for any remaining residue, and cleaned up what we found. So if that was the problem – we'll take him off the ventilator in a couple hours."

"What did the brain scans show?"

"Nothing, out of the ordinary. No swelling or bleeds that would cause immediate worry. We also didn't find any cracks in the skull, which in and of itself is a miracle. We did, however, stitch up the head wound. The butterfly bandages were holding it together but with as deep as it was – well it will heal faster if stitched."

"So is he going to be ok?"

"The concussion is serious – so we'll be keeping an eye on him. We'll know for sure how he's doing when he wakes up."

"Can we see him?"

Dr. Burken hesitated and the smile faded slightly. "For a few minutes, we have him scheduled for a few more tests in a half hour."

"Sam, why don't we just wait until later to see him?" Jenni asked lightly, placing a hand on Sam's shoulder and squeezing gently.

He turned to look at her, his eyes wide with disbelief. "Why?"

"We need to get you checked into a motel close by – and we'll get some lunch. Dean won't be done for a while."

Dr. Burken nodded as Jenni turned to look at him to confirm her assumptions. "He should be situated in his room in a few hours and you can stay with him for as long as you want then."

Sam hesitated, looking back and forth between Jenni and Dr. Burken, but neither were relenting.

"Is there a motel close by?"

Dr. Burken nodded. "The Guesthouse International Inn isn't too far, only a couple minutes away actually. Down on University Avenue, you can't miss it."

"Thank you, Dr. Burken." Jenni grabbed Sam's elbow and helped him to his feet. "Come on, Sam. We'll come back later this afternoon. He'll be fine."

Sam sent a wistful glance at the swinging doors before allowing Jenni to direct him towards the exit. Dr. Burken watched them go before nodding at the sour faced nurse and pushing through the swinging doors once again.

***

The afternoon passed slowly for Sam, but Jenni had been unrelenting. She had insisted on checking them into the Guesthouse Inn and had threatened to knock him out if he didn't sleep. It had been anything but restful, but Sam had done as he was told. Jenni too had taken a nap, but was up long before Sam was. She had already brought back lunch by the time Sam stumbled into the kitchenette area.

"You hungry?" Jenni asked setting a chicken salad onto the table and hurrying over to Sam as he stumbled and nearly fell.

Sam shook his head and tried to push her away, but gave up when Jenni tightened her hold on him.

"When can we go see Dean?"

"Sam, he isn't going anywhere."

Sam glared at her as she helped him settle at the table. "I want to go see, Dean."

"How about you eat lunch first – then we'll see what happens."

"Not hungry." Sam stared moodily at the chicken salad sitting before him.

Jenni crossed her arms over her chest and glared at Sam, unrelenting. "Sam, we aren't going anywhere until you get some food into you. You aren't going to be any good to Dean cranky and hungry. He's going to need you strong and rested – and right now you're anything but."

Sam stabbed his fork into the concoction and lifted it slowly to his mouth.

Jenni nodded and settled herself on the opposite side of the table, digging into her own lunch. She stabbed at a few raspberries and dipped them into a small cup of cream. She watched as Sam stirred the contents of his lunch around on his plate.

"What's wrong, Sam?"

Sam looked up at her but quickly dropped his gaze again.

"Nothing."

Jenni cocked an eyebrow. "You always this pleasant when you're fine?"

Sam sighed and pushed his plate away – glaring at his water glass. "What's it matter to you?"

"Sam, he's going to be fine. He's in good care – another half hour on his own won't make a difference."

"He doesn't like being alone." Sam's voice was just above a whisper, he tapped his fingers against the water glass.

"He's a big boy, Sam, I'm sure he'll manage."

Sam's fist slammed against the tabletop, rattling the plates and tipping over both cups. Jenni silently dropped a napkin onto the spilled liquid and met Sam's gaze evenly.

"He doesn't like being alone, Jenni. At all – he hates it! He'll know that I'm not there – I want to go back to the hospital."

"Throwing a fit like a little kid isn't going to get you there any faster."

"Don't tell me what to do." Sam pushed against the tabletop and started to rise but Jenni was much faster than he had anticipated and was at his side, gripping his shoulders in an instant, her nails digging into the folds of his shirt.

"You want to help your brother, Sam, I get that – I do. But do you really think that you are going to help him like this? We're already pushing our luck here because we don't have your pain killers – or your glasses – the least we can do is make sure you are well rested and have eaten to keep your strength up. Trust me, you're going to need it. If Dean really hates being alone as much as you say he does, he's going to want you around for a while – and you won't be in any condition to do so if you're exhausted and hungry."

Sam tightened his jaw and tensed, ready to push Jenni off him.

"Think about what's best for Dean and not what you want yourself, Sam. You aren't any good to him like this."

"You can't stop me."

Jenni released him, backing up a few steps. "You're right – I can't. If you want to walk out that door now and walk to the hospital that's your decision, I won't try to stop you. You obviously know what's best for you and your brother without my help."

"We've managed just fine without you our whole lives – I don't see much of a difference now."

Jenni nodded once and brushed a stray lock of hair out of her eyes. "Obviously – I can see where that has gotten you."

Sam's eyes narrowed dangerously. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Sam, do you honestly think you can handle this on your own? Dean's going to need more help when he's checked out and you aren't in the best condition to help him."

"I think I can handle it."

"That's just the thing, Sam, you can't."

"Don't tell me what I can and can't handle! You know nothing about us!"

"I know more than you think."

"This isn't about you!"

"Then what is it about, Sam? Please, explain to me why this is so freaking important that you go to Dean right now."

"He needs me."

"He's going to be under sedation, Sam, he's not going to know you're there."

"He'll know."

"Sam, this is stupid. Finish your lunch and we'll go down to the hospital together. It won't take as long as it would if you decided to leave now and walk down there. But the longer we stand here and argue about this means less time that you could be spending with your brother."

"I'm not hungry – so why can't we just leave now?"

"Because you haven't eaten all day, Sam. You need to eat – I promise we'll go as soon as you eat something. You don't even have to eat all of it – just eat half. You can eat half, right?"

Sam looked down at the unappetizing chicken salad. "Half?"

"Just half – then I promise we'll go right down to the hospital and stay as long as you want. I won't bother you if you guys want to be alone and I won't force you to leave. Please, Sam, just eat something."

Sam took a step back, placing one hand on the back of his chair. "What if Dean wants to leave?"

"I'll try to get him released."

"What if they won't release him?"

"I'll smuggle him out under a sheet if I have to."

"What if we get caught by Nurse Sourpuss?"

"I'll kick her wrinkled ass to Japan. I was looking for an excuse to do something to her anyway."

Sam laughed and sank onto his chair. "She wouldn't stand a chance against you – should probably take it easy on her."

Jenni rolled her eyes and flicked Sam's shoulder playfully as she went back to her own seat and settled down. She scooped up a forkful of blueberries and tossed them into her mouth. She watched as Sam worked on another mouthful of his salad.

"Jenni, I didn't mean – I don't want to make you…"

"Sam, don't." Jenni waved off the apology, knowing it was coming. "I know you're worried about Dean and I don't blame you."

"That doesn't give me a free pass to take my anger out on you whenever I find it convenient."

"No, it doesn't. But sometimes you need an outlet and usually the person closest is the easiest to lash out at."

"Maybe, but it isn't fair that you're the one taking the brunt of it."

Jenni reached across the table and placed a small hand on Sam's. "Don't worry about it, Sam. I'm not mad – I promise."

Sam smiled and took another small bite of his salad. "Jenni, can we save the rest of this? I really want to get back to the hospital."

Jenni eyed Sam's barely touched salad but nodded, relenting. She knew it would be pointless to argue with Sam and he had tried to eat something, so she'd cut him a break this time.

"Good thing this place has a mini refrigerator huh?" Jenni asked putting a lid on the fruit bowl and picking up Sam's salad. She placed both items in the small cooling unit and pulled on her jacket before helping Sam with his.

"How long do you think the hospital will insist on keeping him?" Sam asked fumbling with the zipper on his jacket.

Jenni shrugged and tugged her loose hair into a low ponytail, tying it with a twisty tie. "It depends on a few things. If he's still on the ventilator they'll want to keep him for a few days, if he's breathing on his own – probably just over night."

"Did you mean it, Jenni, when you said you'd try to get him out?" Sam asked looking up briefly before returning his gaze to the zipper that was giving him so much trouble.

Jenni cocked an eyebrow and puckered her lips slightly as she watched Sam struggle. "Yes, I meant it. If he's feeling well enough to leave I think I'd do my best to get him out of there. The less time we have to stay there the less time someone will have to recognize us from the TV or posters in the post office."

Sam laughed and shook his head once, dropping the bottom of his jacket as the stubborn zipper continued to be difficult. Jenni stepped over and quietly zipped up his jacket and handed him the spare motel key. He slipped it into his pocket and allowed Jenni to help guide him to the door.

"Besides, the sooner we get you back to the cabin and get your glasses back on you the better. I hope that this little stunt hasn't set back your recovery, Sam."

"I'm fine."

"You don't look fine, Sam. You still look tired. Are you sure you're ok?" Jenni looked at him concerned before she pulled the motel door shut behind her and helped Sam down the stairs to the parking lot.

Sam nodded and blinked his eyes heavily against the onslaught of the late afternoon sun.

"Oh, I almost forgot – here." Jenni pulled a pair of dark shades from her pocket and pushed them into Sam's hand. "I found them in the impala, figured you'd want them out here."

Sam smiled his appreciation and slipped the glasses on, letting out a silent breath of relief as the dark shades took some of the strain off his aching eyes. "Hey, Jenni?"

"Yeah?" Jenni slipped in behind the wheel and Sam got into his usual position in the passenger seat.

"How do you think my recovery is supposed to go?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean I went from not being able to see at all to seeing shadows and grays – does this mean I'll see one color at a time or something?"

Jenni frowned and stuck the key in the ignition, pushing gently and listening while the engine turned over before it powered up and it growled quietly. They sat in silence, letting the impala idle as Jenni thought about Sam's question.

"Well, Sam, I honestly don't know." Jenni admitted after several minutes of silence. "I've never dealt with a case like yours before, so it will be a learning experience for both of us I suppose."

"Oh – well, I figured as much."

"Was there a reason you asked, Sam?" Jenni leaned over, placing a hand on Sam's knee. "Are you seeing colors?"

"It's hard to tell – I feel like I'm forgetting how to tell what colors are." Sam absent-mindedly leaned forward and rubbed his fingers on the dash, closing his eyes briefly.

Jenni watched him, her eyebrows meeting and her eyes widening a bit. "Are you seeing anything other than the grays, Sam?"

Sam hesitated, then slowly nodded once. "I think – well, I think I'm seeing some blues. But I'm not sure, I can't really tell the difference."

"Give it more time, Sam. Your eyes are still trying to heal – let's not push them any more than we have to right now."

Sam nodded and turned to look out the window. Jenni pulled the gear into reverse and backed out of the parking space slowly.

"So, Sam." Jenni asked smiling as she pulled out into traffic.

Sam turned to look at her, a bit weary. "Yeah?"

Jenni grinned and cast a quick glance at Sam, wiggling her eyebrows. "What do you think Dean will say when he found out I drove his car?"

***

"You freakin' let a chick drive my car!" Dean demanded glaring daggers at his brother. His chest heaved as his labored breaths picked up a notch and his mouth pulled down into a scowl.

Sam sighed and leaned back in the hard plastic chair he had taken residence in an hour ago. Dean was sore and tired, not the best of combinations under the best of circumstances, but even worse when Dean was sore, tired, and in a hospital bed. Sam rubbed patiently at his temples, trying to rid himself of the residing ache that had taken residence there shortly after arriving.

Dean had been awake, and off the ventilator when they had arrived, and was less than pleased when he discovered where he was. He had greeted Jenni and Sam, and had actually been civil for fifteen minutes before asking when he could leave. Sam hadn't been surprised, and for her credit, neither had Jenni.

Jenni had talked to Dr. Burken about Dean's condition before they had been shown to his room, so they had been aware that Dean wasn't in the best of moods before they had even seen him. Dean had been extremely difficult ever since he had woken up – insisting that he was fine and demanding to know where his brother was.

Jenni and Sam had prepared themselves for Dean's attitude before entering his room and hadn't been disappointed. After Dean's initial pleasantries upon seeing them he had quickly soured when they didn't immediately check him out.

He would have to stay off the leg for a couple weeks, and was to take it easy on his arm for at least one. The head wound had been stitched, and the claw marks down his chest had been rewrapped.

Jenni had soon left Sam on his own to deal with Dean while she went in to see what she could do about getting him discharged. Unfortunately, the impala had come up, and Dean had been less than pleased when Sam admitted to how they had gotten to the hospital in the first place.

"What did you want me to do, Dean? We had to get you help and I can't see well enough to drive the impala. I'd have crashed it or something."

Dean pursed his lips and lifted an eyebrow, getting ready to say something that Sam was sure wouldn't be pleasant so he quickly changed the subject.

"How much did you tell Jenni about us?"

Surprised by the conversation change, Dean's eyebrows met and his forehead crinkled. "What do you mean?"

"Did you tell her about all the things we've hunted?"

"She had some questions."

"About what?"

"I don't know it was kind of weird – she seemed really interested in banshees for some reason."

Sam cocked his head, intrigued. "Why?"

"I don't know, she didn't say."

"Do you think she's worried about a banshee?"

Dean shrugged and wrapped his arms around his stomach, settling further under the bed sheets. Sam's insides clenched, the last time he had seen Dean do this had been right before John had died. He tried to suppress his feelings as he met Dean's gaze head on.

"If she is – she didn't mention it."

Sam frowned and ran his fingers through his tangled hair.

"What's wrong, Sam?"

"That just seems really weird that she would bring something like that up. Don't you think?"

Dean shrugged again and focused on the far wall. "I was cleaning weapons at the time – it would seem natural that she would ask about what kills what. Curiosity never hurt anything but a cat somewhere – and that sucker has been dead for a long time."

Sam smirked and shook his head, looking down at his lap.

"You know – I have kind of thought that maybe her parents' deaths have something to do with her curiosity about all this stuff though." Dean continued, speaking quietly, as though to himself as he would if Sam weren't in the room.

"What do you mean?" Sam asked leaning forward and studying Dean's face intently, squinting his eyes a bit in hopes that Dean would come into better focus.

"Well, apparently her parents died up by the lake. They went out one night and never came back."

"Were the bodies found?"

"Yeah, Jenni said that the cops dragged the lake – but the bodies weren't found for a couple weeks. Something could have just dumped them in the lake later."

"True, maybe we should look into it. See if something strange has happened around the lake. If it is supernatural there should be some kind of pattern."

"It won't bring her parents back, Sam."

"I know that, but maybe it can give her some better closure."

"Sam, if it were you – would it give you more closure? Knowing what did it?"

Sam thought about it seriously – Jess, Mom, Dad – it hadn't given him more closure. It had just opened up the door for revenge and he had become obsessed with it – maybe even more so than Dad had been. He looked back at Dean who was looking at him patiently, his eyes soft and all knowing.

"It won't help her, Sam. It won't take the pain away – she's better off not knowing."

Sam nodded and swallowed, finding the simple act hard to do as a large lump had suddenly formed there. "Do you think we'd be better off, Dean? Not knowing?"

"Sometimes, but we can't undo things once they've been done, Sammy. We were never meant to not know what's out there – it's our job."

"I thought you didn't believe in that destiny crap."

"I don't, but that doesn't mean that some things were meant to be. Some things we have control over, Sammy, and other things we don't."

"What's the difference?"

"Our choices define us, Sam, make us who we are. We've chosen to do this – Dad chose to do this. He could have walked away after what happened to Mom, but he didn't. He wanted to get that thing – wanted to protect us from the same thing. He wanted us to be ready, to know what was out there, didn't want us to be caught unawares like he was."

"Yeah but that doesn't mean that we had to keep doing it."

"No, we didn't, but we did and we still do. We don't really know anything else, Sammy."

"I did – once."

Dean's eyes softened as he watched his brother curl in on himself. "Sam, when you were at Stanford did you ever stop believing in those things lurking out in the dark?"

"I wanted to – but I never could. I still knew they were out there."

"It's kind of hard to forget this kind of stuff isn't it, Sammy?"

Sam's mouth pulled up into a crooked grin. "Yeah – but you can't take it home with you – right, Dean?"

"Damn straight."

"But what does this have to do with our choices, Dean? What does this have to do with our destinies?"

"Sam, we didn't have to keep doing this – we could have left and forgotten about this stuff at any time, but we didn't. We chose to keep fighting, to keep hunting – no one chose it for us. We did that ourselves."

"Well, yeah, I guess. But with what the demon said to Dad – about me?"

Dean's face darkened and he turned to look away from his brother.

"What about the others like me? What do you think he meant by that?"

"Sam, I don't think you have to do something that some yellow eyed son of a bitch tells you to do. It's your choice on whether you want to join him or keep fighting the good fight. Doesn't matter if you are some freaky ass spoon bender who has weirdo ass visions. You're the one who chooses what to do with that crazy mojo stuff – no one can do it for you."

"Dean, what would you do if you had them?"

Dean smirked and straightened a bit on the bed. "Go to Vegas – win me some cash."

Sam shook his head and laughed. "Figures."

A soft knock at the door interrupted their conversation and two pairs of eyes turned to see Jenni entering, wearing a sheepish grin and pushing a wheelchair.

"Ready to go home, Dean?"

"Hell yes, but not in that thing."

Jenni pursed her lips and fixed Dean with a steady gaze. "You either get in this chair and shut up about it or we will leave your ass here and I'll sell the impala for spare parts in some salvage yard."

Dean smirked, confident. "You wouldn't do that to my baby. You like her – she's a classic."

Jenni frowned but recovered quickly. "You're right – but I will guarantee nothing but salads and fruit bowls if you don't shut up about this."

"Ouch." Sam smirked and shrugged when Dean turned an accusing stare in his direction. "She got you where it hurts the most didn't she, Dean? Right in the stomach." He laughed as Dean turned his incredulous gaze back to Jenni.

"You're joking, right?"

"Dead serious." Jenni pushed the chair up next to the bed and locked the breaks. "You want Sam to help you get dressed, or do you want me to do it?"

"Do I have to have an audience?"

"Yes, you don't seem to realize that you have more than fifty stitches in your leg alone, Dean. If you pull those out you are going to be in intense pain and will have to go in for surgery to get them fixed. Then you'll be stuck here for a week – is that what you really want?"

Dean made a face and pushed aside his bed sheets. "Sam?"

Sam took the bundle of clothes Jenni handed to him and nodded to his brother. "Sure, Dean."

Jenni left the brothers alone so Sam could help Dean get dressed.

"You know, Dean, it won't kill you to have someone help you every once in a while."

"Yes it will."

Sam rolled his eyes and helped pull Dean's hospital clothes off and eased him into the dark t-shirt that had been stripped from him earlier. "Yeah whatever."

Dean grimaced as Sam helped him into the loose cotton pajama pants he would be required to wear, as the denim in his jeans could cause more damage than good.

"It's humiliating is what it is." Dean muttered settling back onto the bed as Sam pulled on his socks and boots.

"Better than doing something stupid and having to spend more time here right?"

Dean shrugged and looked up as the door opened and Dr. Burken stuck his head inside.

"Ah, getting ready to get out of here I see." He stepped into the room, a small bundle in his hands.

"Well you know the décor could use a little sprucing up but other than that I feel right at home here."

"Dean." Sam sighed, but Dr. Burken laughed.

"I know how it goes, it's pretty bland around here. But that's best when you want to keep things as sanitary as possible." He unwrapped his bundle and walked around the bed, sitting down in the chair Sam had vacated. "You'll need to wear these for a while – the sling for a week and the brace for a few, until we remove the stitches at least."

Dean grimaced as the sling was lifted over his head and settled against his neck. Sam helped him ease his arm into the device before he assisted Dr. Burken with the leg brace that would isolate Dean's leg movements.

"You'll need a chair for the shower – no excess walking and no standing for long periods of time."

Sam smirked, Dean noticed and glowered at him.

"You'll need to take these as well." Dr. Burken handed Sam a couple prescription bottles. "They'll help fight off infections and will help with the pain. You're still pretty dosed up right now, but you'll be feeling those stitches in the morning."

"Thanks, Doc."

"No problem." Dr. Burken shook Sam's outstretched hand and then Dean's before shoving both his hands into his jacket pockets. "Feel free to call if you have any questions or concerns."

Sam nodded and dropped the pills into his jacket pocket.

Dr. Burken turned to look at Sam, studying him for a minute. "Any more pain? Has the burning come back?"

Sam shook his head, trying to avoid looking at his brother. He could feel Dean's concerned eyes burning him and didn't want to discuss his own condition at the moment.

"Make sure you get your glasses on as soon as you can – or you'll set back your recovery. I'm sure you don't want that. From what I could see your eyes are doing extremely well and a set back could cause several complications."

Sam nodded, still not looking at his brother. "Thanks again, Dr. Burken."

"It's not a problem, have a good night." He turned back to Dean. "Take it easy on that leg."

Dean offered him a strained smile and nodded. "Sure, I'll just settle for some burgers, beer, and porn."

"That's the way to do it." Dr. Burken laughed and nodded at the brothers once more before leaving them alone.

Dean was on Sam instantly, his eyes burning into Sam's. "You didn't tell me that the burning came back, Sam."

"It's nothing, Dean. Just a little flare up."

"Sam, that's serious. Where the hell are your meds and your glasses?"

"Back at the cabin. Can we not discuss this now, Dean, please?"

Dean scowled but nodded as Jenni entered the room. "Fine, but we will talk about this, Sam."

"We have a few things we need to discuss, Dean." Sam met his brother's hard gaze head on.

"Ok, guys, why don't we head out. We can grab some burgers on the way back to the motel."

"Motel?" Dean asked sending Jenni and Sam a puzzled glance. "Am I missing something?"

"We checked into the Guesthouse Inn just down the next block. We wanted to be close – just in case we needed to stay here for a couple days. But I think we'll stick around until tomorrow at least. I don't think I'm up to driving back to the cabin tonight."

"You won't be driving at all." Dean muttered.

"Well you certainly won't. You can't even walk – and driving would put a lot of pressure on your stitches, which will increase your chances of busting them. I think that is a stupid risk to take for a few hours behind the wheel, Dean. It's not like I haven't driven her before."

"Yeah, while I was unconscious."

"Well you don't have much of a choice do you? So suck it up." Jenni turned to Sam giving him a warm smile when she saw the suppressed laughter he was failing to hide. "You ready to get this stubborn ass out of here?"

"Guess we better, I doubt that the nurses around here are cute enough to entertain him. If we don't leave with him now he'll just do something stupid then kick our asses for leaving him later."

Dean scowled at the pair of them. "Hilarious – can we go please?"

Smirking, Jenni and Sam helped Dean into the wheelchair. Sam let Jenni take the handles as he didn't want to accidentally run Dean into a wall, but kept a hand on Dean's shoulder as Jenni turned to the door and the trio left the room.

***

Dr. Burken sighed and leaned back in his desk chair, straightening a few papers and placing them into one of the many manila folders that were scattered around the mahogany desktop. He glanced briefly at his watch and frowned as he saw the hands ticking closer to the midnight mark. He had put in a good nineteen-hour day and was still nowhere close to where he should be before he headed for home.

He picked up his coffee cup and sniffed at it before taking a small sip. He grimaced and set it down again, pushing it to the far edge of the desk. The cold drink wasn't appetizing and left a tangy aftertaste in his mouth. He licked at his lips and shook his head, as he looked over the files. He picked up Jack Winfield's file and flipped it open. He made a few notes on one of the pieces of paper inside and was closing it when his office door opened.

A young girl, no older than twenty-five, entered the room. Her short brown hair stood out in spikes with a few loose strands dangling into her eyes. She had a small black purse slung over one shoulder and her white jacket was being held closely to her, held in one fist while the other was in her pocket.

"Marian? What are you still doing here? It's late – don't you have class in the morning?" Dr. Burken eyed the young student; picking up Jack's file and tapping it against his leg as he leaned back further in the chair.

"Sorry to bother you, Dr. Burken, but I needed to ask you something."

"Of course, come in."

The med student walked across the small office and sat in one of the seats on the opposite side of the desk.

"What can I help you with?"

"Well, Dr. Burken, to be honest I'm concerned."

"Is it about your final exams?"

"No – this seems so silly."

Dr. Burken narrowed his eyes and leaned forward, dropping the file he was holding onto the desk. "What is it?"

"That man that you had me running the tests for earlier – those wounds, do you really think they were animal attacks?"

"I don't see why they'd say they were if they weren't."

"I've never seen so much damage from an animal attack before."

Dr. Burken sighed and gave the young student a small half smile. "You're going to see much worse in this career path I'm afraid. I've seen much worse – in fact one of the first cases I ever had was a young girl hit by a car. It was something I will never forget – she wasn't conscious but her heart was still beating, but the damage done…well, we couldn't do much to help her."

"Dr. Burken, I don't know if – I just don't know if I'm ready for this."

"That's something you have to decide for yourself, Marian, I can't help you with that. It's a hard career, and the choices you make will affect other people. You may save a lot of lives but you need to prepare yourself for the fact that you will end up killing people as well."

"I want to help people, I like learning about this stuff."

"I honestly think, Marian, if you want to do this you can. You're one of the best students I've seen this year, and I'm proud of all you've accomplished."

"I don't think I want to work in a major hospital though, maybe a small clinic."

"I think you'd do better in a smaller clinic – I'm guessing you'll need a letter of recommendation?"

"If you wouldn't mind – I am graduating in about a month. Do you know of any small clinics I could apply to?"

"There might be someone I can talk to – she works in a small clinic and I'm sure she'd be happy to help. Let me make a few calls and I'll let you know by the end of the week."

Marian nodded and rose. "Thank you, Dr. Burken."

"No problem, good night."

"Night." The young student left the office, shutting the door quietly behind her.

Dr. Burken again glanced at his watch then opened Jack's file, running over several papers before selecting one and reading the number on it. "I'll just leave a message." He muttered picking up the phone and dialing.

***

Sunlight pooled in through the partially closed curtains, and hit him square in the face. Sam squinted and turned his head away from the window burying his face into his pillow. The musty smell that all motels seemed to have were saturated into pillowcases, making it hard for him to breathe. He groaned and turned his head to the opposite side of the room, opening one eye to see how Dean was doing.

The opposite bed was empty, the bed sheets rumpled and the comforter in a crumpled heap at the foot of the bed. Sam propped himself up on his elbows, blinking heavily and trying to focus. The bedroom door was closed and the soft sounds of voices were coming from the other side.

Sam pushed aside the bed sheets and rose from the bed, accidentally bumping the nightstand and stubbing his toe on the corner of the bed frame. The soft carpet quieted his footsteps as he made his way across the small bedroom and the sounds of the distant voices slowly grew louder, as if someone was adjusting the sound on a stereo.

He had just reached the door and had his hand on the knob when he paused, hesitating when he heard his name in a low tone. He stilled and leaned his head against the door, listening.

"I think I should apologize to him – I shouldn't have been telling him what to do." Jenni's voice sounded muffled on the other side of the thin wood, Sam pressed his ear against harder.

He waited, certain that Dean wouldn't agree with her.

"I think it's probably best." Dean finally said quietly – his voice so soft that Sam almost didn't catch it. "Sam might get a little heated, but he knows what he's doing."

"Do you think he's angry?"

Sam heard Dean sigh quietly.

"It's hard to tell with Sam sometimes. He didn't seem mad yesterday when I saw you guys."

"He had calmed down by then, he was really quiet in the car."

"Sam gets like that though, I wouldn't worry about it, Jenni. If Sam has something on his mind he usually lets you know."

"Dean, Sam was talking to me about a lot of stuff yesterday when we were in the waiting area."

"What kind of stuff?"

"He told me about what happened to your Dad. I don't think he wants to admit it but he's having a really hard time with his death."

"Dad and Sammy never really got along. Sam had to question everything Dad ever told us to do – always wanting to know why we had to do something. It made Dad mad and he and Sam would fight – they did that a lot. They were just too much alike I guess, it was hard seeing them like that."

"You were the center ground?"

"I never liked it when they'd fight. I'd break it up before things got too far, but sometimes it wasn't enough – and one time I wasn't there to break them up fast enough."

"What do you mean?"

"It's nothing – never mind." Dean sounded tired.

"Ok, well are you ready for breakfast then?"

"You even have to ask?"

Sam twisted the knob and pushed open the door, faking a yawn and rubbing at his eyes as he emerged.

Dean was sitting at the table, half slumped, his good elbow resting on the table and his hand cupped under his chin. His right arm was still strapped to his torso in a sling and his right leg was propped up on a vacant chair.

Jenni looked up and offered Sam a small smile as he entered the room. "Morning, Sam."

"Morning." Sam mumbled as he took a seat opposite his brother.

Dean lazily lifted his eyes to meet Sam's for a brief moment before he dropped them down to the tabletop once more.

Sam looked away as well – the brothers hadn't spoken much the night before, but had rather sat in an awkward silence, sending each other occasional accusing glares.

Sam knew that the silence wouldn't last long and he wasn't looking forward to the heated discussion he knew would follow. He was certainly going to tell Dean exactly how he felt about him going off to face the harpy on his own. He was sure that Dean would give him an earful for being neglectful and forgetting his glasses as well, it wasn't going to be pleasant.

Jenni set a cup of coffee down in front of each of the brothers. "I'm afraid the motel doesn't offer a free breakfast – we'll have to go out and get it."

Dean glared up at her and reached for his coffee, downing half of the hot brew.

Sam stared into his cup, rubbing his fingers idly up and down the warm surface of his mug. "What time are we heading back?"

"Soon as you guys feel up to going."

Sam looked up at Dean who was staring at Jenni, his expression blank.

"We could get breakfast on the way to the cabin – that way we don't need to come back here." Sam offered, shrugging when Dean turned to stare at him.

"Dean – you ok with that?"

"That's fine."

"Ok – Sam, why don't you help Dean get dressed and I'll grab our stuff. I'll meet you at the car in ten minutes?"

"I don't need help." Dean grumbled. "Not a freakin' invalid."

"Never said you were." Jenni said lightly setting her coffee cup on the counter next to the small sink. She dumped the rest of the coffee down the drain and rinsed the pot with cool water and set it beside her mug.

The brothers sat in silence as Jenni finished cleaning up the coffee mess and disappeared into her bedroom – exiting a moment later with a small bundle. She wasted no time in leaving the motel room, closing the door behind her.

Dean's gaze traveled back to Sam, his eyes exceptionally hard.

"Don't look at me like that, Dean." Sam rose and dumped his untouched coffee down the drain, and filled the mug with water. He set it along side Jenni's and turned back to face his brother, leaning against the counter.

"I wasn't lookin' at you like anything." Dean muttered lifting his mug and finishing the remains of his coffee.

Sam cocked an eyebrow, waiting.

"Was the pain bad yesterday, Sam?"

Sam shook his head. "I've had worse."

Dean narrowed his eyes – studying Sam carefully. "It was bad though, wasn't it?"

"I just overdid it is all – no big deal. I'm fine now. That's all that matters."

"No big deal?" Dean's eyebrows lifted high on his forehead and his eyes widened in disbelief. "Sam, do you realize how serious a stunt like that could have been? What that could have cost you?"

Sam shrugged. "I don't care."

"You don't care?" Dean shifted in the chair, and half attempted to rise. Sam had no doubt that if Dean could have risen he would have. Fortunately, for Sam, Dean's injuries were making him immobile at the moment.

"No, Dean, I didn't care – I was a little preoccupied with trying to get you help."

"No one asked you to."

"No, but we didn't have much choice either, Dean."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"What the hell were you thinking going after this thing on your own, Dean? Knowing what it was capable of?"

"Don't start, Sam."

"You could have gotten yourself killed, Dean! If we hadn't come looking for you when we did…" Sam glowered at his brother, ignoring the headache that was starting behind his eyes.

"I'm fine, see me here – alive?"

"Because we dragged you back to the cabin and stitched you up. Dean, those injuries were serious!"

"Gee – thanks for the memo, think I missed that one."

Sam rolled his eyes and studied the floor for a moment. "You don't get it – do you, Dean? You won't stop until you kill yourself."

"I didn't go out there to die, Sam!"

"Then why'd you go out there? Without backup? Without taking me with you?"

"Sam, I've already seen this bitch tear you apart once – I'm not going to watch that happen again."

"So what? I get to sit by and watch you get torn apart instead?"

Dean shrugged and rubbed at his injured arm, pulling at the bandages. "If it keeps you safe."

Sam chomped down so hard on his tongue that he tasted blood. "Why the hell is my life anymore important than yours, Dean? Why is it that I deserve to live but you don't?"

"I never said that."

"No – but you don't have to. Your actions speak loud and clear."

"It's not like that."

"Then, please, explain to me what it is about. Because you lost me."

Dean shook his head and laughed a humorless laugh. "You wouldn't understand."

"That's always it – isn't it, Dean? I won't get it, so why bother trying to explain to me? If you don't give a damn about playing the safe card why should I?"

Dean's eyes shot up to Sam's – hot and angry. "Cause I won't let you."

"You gonna stop me?"

"If I have to."

Sam's eyes narrowed, matching Dean's glare. The pounding behind his eyes was getting harder to ignore now as it was sending shooting pains through his skull and making all the nerves in his skin tingle. He lifted a hand and rubbed softly at his temple, trying to still the sharp pain.

"Sam? What's wrong?"

"I'm fine." Sam spat through clenched teeth – purposefully keeping his eyes open and refusing to let his knees buckle. In reality he was anything but fine and he wanted nothing more then to curl up with a cold compress and rest his head.

"Sam?"

Sam closed his eyes, focusing on Dean's voice. The world was a blur, he couldn't focus, couldn't think, couldn't stand, couldn't do anything but rub at the pain in his temples. It was increasing, making it hard to do anything, making the hated tears pool in his eyes and trickle down his cheeks.

Someone grabbed his arms and pushed him up against a solid surface, and a familiar hand, so tough and yet so gentle at the same time, cupped his chin and tilted his head up. He opened his eyes and blinked slowly, studying the soft cotton pants that Dean wore.

He reached forward and touched the soft material, a smile curling at the corners of his lips as the light baby blue color came into better focus.

"Sam? Sammy? Answer me, damn it!"

Sam lifted a hand and rested it on Dean's left arm, pulling his gaze slowly up to meet Dean's eyes. He smiled as the irises in Dean's eyes swam with a soft bluish tinge.

"Sam? Are you ok?"

"I'm ok – I'm fine." Sam nodded slowly and pulled back. Dean dropped his left hand to Sam's knee, continuing to stare eagerly at his brother.

"Dude, what the hell happened to you? You went white – and you were trembling. Thought you were gonna pass out on me."

"No – just a headache, I'm fine."

"No you're not. We should get you checked out – see what's going on with those eyes."

"I don't want to go to the doctor."

"Tough shit – after that stunt you just pulled you think you aren't going?"

"I'm fine, Dean, honest."

"Right – I'll believe that when I see it."

"Think my eyesight is getting better."

"Sam, whatever this is – it isn't getting better. It's getting worse – you need…"

"Your pants are blue."

"Of course they are most hospi…" Dean trailed off his eyes widening as realization hit him. "You can see the color?"

"They're a baby blue." Sam said softly, dropping his hand from Dean's arm and lowering his eyes to look at Dean's pants once more. He toyed with the soft cotton, enjoying the soft baby blue color more and more with each second.

Dean's eyes widened again and he cupped Sam's face in both hands, ignoring the burning that immediately started in his right arm as he pulled at the stitches. "Are you serious, Sammy? You can see colors?"

"Not all of them – just blue for now." Sam cocked his head and looked at Dean, his eyebrows narrowing slightly. "I always remembered your eyes to be green though – but they look blue."

"My eyes are green, Sam. But if you can only see blue maybe that's why you're seeing them in blue."

Sam shrugged. "Maybe – I don't know, seems kind of strange."

"We'll figure this out, dude. How's the headache?"

Sam closed his eyes and breathed deeply – trying to focus on the pain that was barely noticeable now. "It's manageable."

"Good. Now help me up."

"Dean – how'd you get over here?" Sam looked over Dean's shoulder to see the two toppled chairs and got a better look at the way Dean's lower body was angled – his eyes widening in shock. "Dean! What the hell did you do?"

He reached over gently testing his brother's bandaged right leg – the bandage was still dry and he couldn't detect any foreign splotches that would indicate torn stitches.

"I didn't tear the needlework, Samantha, calm down."

"You could have, Dean!"

"Well I didn't – so don't get your panties in a bunch."

Sam pushed to his feet then bent down and wrapped an arm around Dean's waist, helping him to his feet. Dean leaned on his left leg, slipping his right arm back into the sling and sighing as the pain subsided somewhat.

"Did you have your meds yet?"

"Yes, Sam, before you got your lazy ass out of bed."

The brothers made their way slowly to the room – Dean half limping half hopping and Sam trying his best to carry as much of Dean's weight as he could.

"You need to lay off the hamburgers, dude." Sam complained as he lowered Dean to the closest bed and closed the door – allowing them some form of privacy in case Jenni came back.

Dean chuckled and shook his head. "It's all the leafy rabbit food you eat that's bad for you, Sammy boy."

"Right, and deep fried cow is good for you?"

"Damn straight – lots of protein. Helps build muscles."

Sam chuckled and shook his head. "Whatever – let's get you dressed before Jenni thinks that we've killed each other."

"Whatever – I'd so kick your ass."

"Excuse me?" Sam asked bemused as he pulled his brother's shirt off the dresser where he had placed it the night before.

"You heard me – I kicked your ass more times than I can count."

"You cheat."

"No I don't – you're just a wimp."

"Florida? The swamp monster and a large puddle of…I don't think I want to remember."

"Swamp mud, Sammy, do you think I'd really dump in you in a pile of swamp monster shit?"

"Yes, if you're bored I know you would." Sam laughed and this time Dean joined him.

"I'm offended, Sammy." Dean said breathlessly once he was able to control his laughter.

"Right." Sam untied the sling and slid Dean's arm out, carefully examining the bandage before slipping the sling off Dean's neck and pulling the t-shirt over Dean's head.

Dean slipped his left arm into the sleeve without difficulty, but Sam insisted on helping with the right arm. He was barely able to suppress a wince as the tender flesh covered by the bulky bandages brushed roughly against the soft material of his shirt.

Sam noticed but didn't say anything, knowing Dean didn't want attention drawn to it. Instead he adjusted his brother's arm as gently as he could before helping Dean to get the sling back on and placing the injured arm back in it. He tied the straps tightly around Dean's back, keeping the arm pinned to Dean's torso.

Dean winced as his arm brushed against his bandaged chest. "Easy, Sammy."

"Sorry, Dean." Sam loosened the ties and Dean relaxed a little. "Ready to go down to the car?"

"The thought of a chick driving my car." Dean shook his head and Sam grinned.

"Think she wanted to test the old girl's limits."

Dean's head snapped up and he turned his head so fast Sam was fairly certain he heard a sharp pop. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Nothin', it's not like anything happened anyway."

"What did she do? I swear if she screwed up the engine by doing something stupid…"

"Dean, calm down, she didn't do anything."

Dean narrowed his eyes. "Yes she did – what'd she do?"

"Just tested the accelerator – she really got us to the hospital in a rush."

Dean's jaw tensed and he turned his head as the motel door opened and Jenni's soft footfalls entered the main area. "I'm gonna kill her!" Dean rose, his bad leg trembling under him.

"Whoa – Dean!" Sam grabbed his brother's arm and wrapped it around his shoulders. "Take it easy!"

"Don't tell me to take it easy – it's bad enough that she was driving her, but she was abusing her!"

"Dean, it's a car."

Dean sent Sam a hard glare and tried to pull out of Sam's grasp but Sam held firm. "Let go."

"Stop being an ass, Dean. You'll fall on your face and won't be any good to anyone – now let me help you."

"Jenni – get your ass in here!"

The bedroom door creaked open and Jenni poked her head around the edge. "You need a hand?"

"Gimme the keys – you aren't driving her again."

Jenni pushed the door open the rest of the way her eyebrows lifting in amusement. "So who do you want to drive? Sam? I doubt his vision has expanded far enough to make him a safe driver."

"I'm driving." Dean tried to push away from Sam, but Sam once again tightened his grip.

"No you're not. You'll tear your stitches."

Dean glowered at her. "Well you sure as hell aren't driving!"

"So you want to stay here? That's fine – but I'll need to go to the cabin to get some more supplies – plus Sam's medication and glasses. While I'm out I think I'll go cross country – how does the old girl do off road?"

Sam felt Dean sag against him and had to fight to keep his feet. He knew it was meant to be a joke – but to Dean the impala's care was anything but funny. Dean was sucking in deep breaths and blowing them out in heavy gusts.

"Hey, Dean, hey – take it easy." Sam lifted Dean up higher and set him back on the edge of the bed.

Jenni was instantly serious, dropping down on the opposite side of Dean. "Dean?"

Dean looked up at her, is eyes incredulous. "Cross country – a classic?"

"It was a joke, Dean. Didn't know you'd take it so serious." Jenni shrugged and looked at Sam but he was focusing solely on Dean.

"Not funny." Dean muttered leaning forward and pressing his left palm against his eyes.

"Tell you what, Dean. You walk down to the impala – without our help, and without busting your stitches and I'll let you drive."

Sam sent a frantic glance at her, but Jenni shook her head at him.

"Fine – gimme the keys."

"Get to the impala first and I'll give you the keys." Jenni turned to Sam and pushed to her feet. "Can I talk to you for a minute, Sam?"

"Yeah, sure." Sam rose as well, sending Dean an anxious glance as he followed Jenni out of the bedroom and out to the main area.

"Sam, I want to apologize for yesterday. I shouldn't have been bossing you around – trying to tell you what to do. You know what's best for you, it wasn't my place."

Sam shifted awkwardly; he sent another desperate glance in the direction of the bedroom. "It's fine, Jenni – I'm not mad."

"I know, but I just wanted you to know."

"Do you think we should leave him in there alone?"

"He's going to have to learn his limitations some way, Sam. This seems like the best way."

A loud thud sounded from the bedroom and an angry curse followed.

"That's your cue, do you need help?"

"No – I've got it."

"Ok, I'll meet you at the car."

Sam nodded and hurried back to the bedroom, immediately sinking down beside his brother and reaching under Dean's left shoulder to help him up.

"Get off me." Dean growled, pushing Sam's hand away and pushing himself up onto his elbow. He glared at his brother, breathing heavily, his eyes sparking with anger. Sam didn't miss the perspiration that was dotting Dean's brow and beginning to soak into the top of his t-shirt.

"Dean, don't be stupid – you need help."

"I can do it." Dean muttered rocking himself up into a half sit, and using the bed as a leverage as he pulled himself into a standing position. He wiped his arm against his brow, sighing. "See – no problem."

"Dean, this is dumb."

"Only to you." Dean stumbled forward a step – reaching for the wall as his injured leg wobbled dangerously beneath him. Sam reached forward to help but Dean held out his palm, stopping him. "No help from you – remember? I can do this."

Dean staggered forward, using the wall for support but refusing any aid from Sam. He was damp with sweat by the time they made it to the balcony outside the motel and Sam was getting frantic. The stairs were steep and he didn't want Dean falling down them because he was being stubborn.

"Ok, Dean, you've proved your point. Let me help you."

"I've got it." Dean muttered pulling away from Sam's arm and gripping tightly to the banister as he eased his way down to the steps.

"Dean, I'm begging you. Please, don't do this."

"I said I'm fine, Sam." Dean snapped. This might have had more affect if Dean hadn't wobbled while saying it – forcing him to grab onto the banister tightly to stop himself from falling.

"Dean! Don't do this!" Sam grabbed Dean's arm but Dean shrugged out of Sam's grip and plowed ahead to the spiraling stairway.

His legs were trembling violently under him by the time he made it to the top of the stairs, and Sam was hovering anxiously behind him. Dean ignored both and lifted his left leg, placing it gingerly on the lower step, and steadying himself before allowing the right leg to follow. He could feel his stamina giving out – but he wasn't going to give in without a fight.

The next three steps went as planned, but as Dean's right leg hit the fifth stair – he felt his leg give out on him as it buckled. Dean's sweaty palms, unable to get a firm grip on the railing, slipped and he felt himself tumbling forward. He closed his eyes, ready for the inevitable thump of the metal stairs that would greet him when he fell – along with the several others behind it and not too long after that, the unyielding pavement.

"Dean!" Jenni's horrified voice sounded from somewhere below, but Dean couldn't concentrate on that.

It took him a minute to realize that he wasn't falling, rather something strong was gripping the back of his shirt and holding it tightly in a hold that made it bunch in several uncomfortable places.

"Damn it, Dean, why the hell didn't you listen to me?" Sam snapped as he quickly wrapped an arm around Dean's waist and pulled Dean's left arm over his shoulders. "Hold onto me, and take it easy on that leg."

Dean was too exhausted to argue. He allowed Sam to help him down the remaining stairs and to the impala, where Sam helped him into the backseat, propping his leg up on a spare pillow he retrieved from the trunk. He also retrieved some Advil from the first aid kit and one of the many half filled water bottles that were scattered about the floor.

"Take these." Sam demanded shoving both items into Dean's hands. He slipped another pillow behind Dean's back and pushed up the cotton material of Dean's pants, checking the bandage carefully.

"Didn't bust anything, Sam." Dean said swallowing the pills with only a small sip of the warm, unappetizing water.

"No – but it's swelling, badly. We'll have to loosen the bandages." Sam lifted the leg and began to gently unwind the bandages, Jenni hurried around to the trunk to grab the first aid kit – just in case.

Dean watched with rapt fascination as the bandages were removed to reveal swollen red and purple flesh. Several small black stitches were across a long puffy red line that started just below his hip and traveled halfway down his thigh. The injury looked pretty bad – he was impressed. "Cool."

Sam cocked an eyebrow at him, clearly not amused. "Not cool, Dean. You could have done some serious damage with that little stunt of yours."

"Come on, Sammy, chicks dig scars."

"You have enough to know." Sam muttered as Jenni returned with the first aid kit.

"Did he bust any?"

"No – they look ok. It's amazing that he didn't."

Two pairs of angry eyes turned to look at Dean who just smiled and shrugged.

"I'm Superman."

Jenni chuckled but Sam let out an exasperated huff. "Yeah, you're Superman."

"How about Batman – he's better."

"He's fine – we'll put this on it." Sam shook a small plastic bag hard, tested it with the back of his hand then placed it against Dean's swollen flesh.

Dean started at the cold icepack and pressed against the pillow behind his back, letting out a soft groan. "Damn, that's cold."

"It'll help with the swelling – leave it there." Sam shut the door and dropped the first aid kit into the trunk before walking to the passenger side and slipping in. Jenni got in behind the wheel and stuck the key in the ignition – turning it and smiling as the impala's engine roared.

"So – Dean…" Jenni asked looking back at him. "What's it gonna be – Metallica or Black Sabbath?"

***

Sam knew that Dean would be difficult – Dean was a difficult patient under the best of circumstances, but two days after their return to the cabin and even Sam was on his last nerve. Dean was stubborn, insisting he could do everything on his own and had almost ripped his stitches more than once trying to do more than his injured body would allow.

Sam had helped out where he could, changing the dressings on Dean's wounds, helping Dean to get dressed, bringing Dean his meals on a tray. He even helped Dean hobble around the cabin so Dean wouldn't be stuck in the bedroom with nothing to stare at but the blank walls. He had helped Dean into the lounge chair, but Dean wasn't happy about the small TV that produced more static than entertainment and Sam had eventually gotten tired of hearing Dean grumble about it and left him to his own devices.

When Dean was ready for a shower, Sam was there to get him to the bathroom and helped him strip down to his boxers. He would rewrap Dean's leg and arm in waterproof bandages before leaving Dean to finish on his own – giving him some semblance of dignity. Dean was still miffed about the idea that he had to sit on a chair while in the shower, but his leg was too weak to support him for any length of time. After his first attempt to walk down to the impala that first day his leg had rebelled against him if he was on it for any length of time.

That made it exceptionally easier for Sam when he had to help his brother out, but it also made Dean crankier than hell. Something Sam was really getting tired of – he tried to be patient, knowing Dean was trying to take some semblance of control over his situation in the only way he could. It didn't make Sam any happier though – and Jenni had gotten fed up with Dean's rude remarks the first day and left his care in Sam's hands while she tended to the cabin and made sure that hot meals were ready when Dean was hungry.

Sam stepped into the kitchen, rubbing a hand through his messy hair. He had just helped Dean get back to the bedroom after his late morning shower and needed a small break – Dean would need to have lunch soon as it was almost time for his pain medications.

Jenni had her back to him, working furiously with something on the counter while a large pot of water boiled on the stove.

"Need a hand?" Sam asked as he stepped over to the sink to wash his hands. The sooner they got food and pain medications in Dean the sooner Dean would fall asleep and they would have some peace and quiet for a couple hours.

"If you want to finish grating the cheese that would be great." Jenni said shaking her hands free of the few pieces of grated cheese that had stuck to her hands. She stepped over to the fridge and pulled out a jug of milk and a cube of butter.

Sam picked up a block of what appeared to be pale blue cheese and began running it up and down the sharp edge of the grater. Small curls of cheese fell down onto the counter. "What kind of cheese is this?"

"Mozzarella, when you get a good size pile put it in the casserole dish, Sam." Jenni instructed as she cut two tablespoons of butter off the cube before putting it in a small glass bowl and sticking it in the microwave. She set it for half a minute and started it then grabbed a measuring cup and poured a cup of milk into it before putting both the milk and butter back in the fridge.

"Your water is boiling." Sam observed as he looked at large pot and bubbling water within.

Jenni swore loudly and hurried to the stove. "I forgot all about it." She pulled out a small container of macaroni noodles and poured most of the contents into the boiling water before turning down the heat.

Sam placed the curls of pale blue cheese into the casserole dish and began to grate some more.

"Do some of the sharp cheese, Sam, that way they get mixed evenly." Jenni instructed as she pulled the flour container from its spot as well as a small canister of salt.

Sam set aside the mozzarella and picked up a block of a dark almost grayish in tinge cheese and began to run that up and down the grater. The bluish gray cheese didn't curl as much as the light blue one had – he looked to see if Jenni was watching and when convinced that she wasn't he picked up a few of the small straight pieces of grated cheese and popped them into his mouth.

The sharp cheese had a tang that made his taste buds reel, he'd never tasted anything like it. He wasn't sure if he really liked it. He shook his head and continued to grate the cheese and Jenni came over and examined the noodles, scraping the bottom of the pan with a wooden spoon to stop them from sticking.

"I hope you like macaroni and cheese." Jenni said tapping the spoon against the edge of the pan and hurrying back to the small glass bowl filled with melted butter. She poured in two tablespoons of flour and a fourth a teaspoon of salt. She whisked them with a wire whisk and set it aside. She set the measuring cup with the milk in the microwave and set the timer for two minutes.

"We used to have the boxed kind when we were little." Sam shrugged and dumped the sharp cheese into the casserole dish along with the mozzarella. He lifted the light blue block again and began grating once more.

Jenni joined him and began to mix the grated cheeses together with her fingers. "You mean the kind with the powdered cheese?"

"I don't know – I never made it. Dean did – he always took care of that stuff."

"Hmm – well I never cared for that myself." Jenni chewed her lip thoughtfully. She stopped mixing the cheeses and went back to the stove to stir the noodles.

Sam finished off the last of the light blue block and dumped the curls into the casserole dish then picked up the last of the bluish gray block. "I got pretty sick of it – Dean wasn't happy when he'd fix something and I wouldn't eat it." His lips curled in a half smile as he remembered.

"I don't blame you – there aren't that many things a kid can make that come from a can or a box are there?"

Sam shrugged and flexed his fingers, trying to ease the cramps that were starting to make his joints ache. His shoulder started to burn from the constant up and down motion of his arm. He hadn't worked out in so long that his muscles were starting to protest.

Jenni hurried to the microwave when it beeped and pulled out the boiling milk. She poured it into the glass dish and whisked it again before setting it in the microwave and adjusted the power level and timing.

"So how is he today?"

"Same as he was yesterday – doubt he'll be in a better mood until he's more mobile. Dean hates being dependent on others – he likes being able to fend for himself."

"He never did strike me as one who accepted help easily. He's got a stubborn streak in him that's a thousand miles long."

"Only a thousand? I could've sworn it was longer than that." Sam joked as he finished the block and dumped the last of the cheese into the casserole dish and mixed the cheeses around as Jenni had done before.

"Perhaps you're right." Jenni agreed, checking the timer on the microwave before opening the small door and stirring the steamy contents of the bowl before starting it up again. "How do the noodles look?"

Sam looked into the pot and eyed the fat noodles. "Um – I'm not sure what I'm supposed to be looking for. But they look fat…" He picked up the wooden spoon and pushed it against the noodles. It easily squished them against the bottom of the pan. "…and they feel soft."

Jenni laughed as she stepped up to the stove and pulled a couple noodles out with the wooden spoon. She dropped them onto her hand and quickly passed them back and forth between her palms, cooling the noodles. She offered one to Sam before popping the other into her mouth.

Sam popped the noodle into his mouth and let it roll around on his tongue before he squished it between his teeth. "So?"

"I think they're done." Jenni pulled a strainer from the cupboard above the stove and set it in the sink. She grabbed the pan by the handle and dumped the cooked noodles into the strainer, just as the microwave beeped. "Sam, will you get the bowl? Get some hot pads – it will be hot."

Sam picked up a couple of the hot pads Jenni had dumped on the counter and opened the microwave, pulling out the small glass bowl and looking at the frothy gray bubbling substance, wrinkling his nose at the strange smell.

"Not used to the smell of hot milk?" Jenni asked not missing the wrinkled nose and narrowed suspicious eyes.

"Is it supposed to smell like that?"

Jenni laughed. "Sam, you might have to help me in the kitchen with every meal."

"Why?"

"Because it reminds me of when I started to cook – everything was so new, I had to be a skeptic about everything, making sure I did it right." Jenni laughed again and shook the strained noodles, getting the last of the water droplets off them.

Sam set the bowl onto the counter. "Anything else I can help you with?"

Jenni sighed and tucked a stray loose of hair around her ear then washed her hands. "No – it will only take me a minute to finish this up so lunch should be ready in less than ten minutes. Go ahead and have a seat."

Sam sat at the table, propping his elbows up on the smooth surface as Jenni pulled on some mittens and lifted the hot glass bowl filled with the foamy substance and poured it over the grated cheeses. Sam could see the cheeses sink deeper into the bowl as the milky mixture made it melt. He wrinkled his nose a little – the color of the food did nothing to stimulate his appetite. "I don't know if I'll ever get used to seeing everything in one color."

Jenni stirred at the mixture with a fresh wooden spoon, not stopping until she had mixed both ingredients as best she could. She then went back to the sink, grabbed the strainer full of cooked macaroni noodles and dumped them into the bowl, stirring them until every single one of them was coated with the cheesy mixture. She then placed the lid on the bowl, set it in the microwave for five minutes and joined Sam at the table. "Your eyes are just adjusting, Sam, it's amazing that they've picked up things this fast. I thought we'd have to wait a few more weeks before you saw anything besides the grays and blacks." She chuckled and shook her head, flexing her fingers before rubbing at the tips of them. "I haven't made macaroni in so long – I've forgotten how much work it is."

"You really don't need to go through all this work for us, Jenni."

"It's no problem, Sam." Jenni waved him off. "In all honesty it's really nice to have someone to cook for besides myself. I get so tired of eating all the leftovers in my fridge – most of them go bad before I finish them."

"It's nice to have something other than burgers." Sam chuckled pushing his glasses further up on the bridge of his nose.

"Hey, Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you think that thing – that harpy is still out there?"

Sam sighed and nodded. "Yeah, she's still out there alright."

"She's going to go after more people isn't she?"

"Probably – you know there's one thing that's really bugging me though."

"What's that?"

"All the blood we found out there when we went after Dean – it seemed like it was too much blood for it just to be his didn't it? If it was just Dean's blood he should have bled out before we got there."

"Do you think someone else was out there?" Jenni asked her eyes suddenly worried.

Sam shook his head, unhappy. "I don't know, but if there was we just left them out there."

"Do you think Dean saw something?"

"Probably, but I don't want to ask him. He's been really unpleasant today."

"Do you think he'd talk to me?"

"Maybe – it's more likely that he'll be more civil with you."

Jenni rose as the microwave beeped and pulled the hot casserole dish from the microwave, setting it on a hot pad. She pulled three bowls down from the cupboard and began to spoon some of the homemade macaroni and cheese into each one. "Maybe I'll take him his lunch today then. You look like you could use a little breather anyway."

"Thanks, Jenni." Sam accepted the bowl she handed to him. He stirred the contents around with his fork.

"There's beer, soda, and water in the fridge. Help yourself to anything." Jenni said grabbing the tray that Sam had been using from its place next to the sink. She set a bowl of macaroni and a bottle of water onto it.

Sam rose from his seat and grabbed a bottle of beer. He twisted off the lid and tossed it onto the table, taking a long swig as Jenni put her own bowl onto the tray and headed out of the kitchen.

He went back to his place and shook his head sadly as he looked at the cheesy concoction before him. If he had left someone out there – someone he hadn't even bothered looking for because he was too worried about his brother, his thoughts trailed off and he ducked his head for a brief moment as his guilt swept over him. He was almost a hundred percent positive that someone else was out there – the blood had been everywhere, splattered all over the trees, covering the foliage, soaking up in the dirt.

Sam dropped the fork he had been toying with and pushed his bowl away, suddenly not at all hungry. He fisted his fingers in his tangled hair and stared out the back window – looking at the dark trees. Someone was out there – someone that was dead, and someone, some loved one, was going out of their mind with worry. Sam rose slowly, looked over his shoulder to make sure Jenni hadn't double back because she had forgotten something. Then he hurried over to the back door, opened it quietly and slipped out. If there was someone out there he was going to find them, he closed the door so softly behind him that it didn't even click.

***

"Hey, Dean." Jenni knocked softly on the bedroom door with her knuckles and pushed the door open.

Dean was on the bed, covered in blankets and looking very cross. He had dark circles under his eyes and his skin was still a little pale and had an almost waxen appearance as beads of sweat dotted his brow.

"I brought you some lunch." Jenni said entering the room and settling herself into the chair that Sam had brought in the first night. Jenni set the tray on Dean's lap and lifted her own bowl, setting it down on her knees.

Dean picked up his fork and stabbed it into the cheesy noodles. "Where's Sam?"

"He's in the kitchen – eating."

Dean scowled and lifted a forkful of macaroni noodles to his mouth – a long string of cheese stuck to the fork trailing it as Dean slid the utensil between his teeth. The stringy cheese stuck to his chin and Dean brushed it away with the back of his hand.

Jenni lifted a forkful and twisted the cheesy strands around her fork before popping it into her mouth.

"Where'd you get this?" Dean asked picking up another forkful and lifting it to his mouth, this time managing without a cheese string.

"Sam and I made it – it's an old family recipe."

"Sam helped?"

Jenni would have laughed at the look on Dean's face if he weren't looking so serious. "Yes, Sam helped."

"Huh – looks like Samantha is learning some new skills." A suddenly evil grin turned the corners of his mouth and his eyes got a strange glow that Jenni had never seen before. "Did you make him wear an apron?"

Jenni shook her head and laughed. "No – I skipped out on the hairnet as well."

Dean almost choked on the mouthful he was working on.

"Hey, Dean, I hate to bring this up – but Sam and I think it's important."

"What is it?" Dean grimaced at the water bottle but opened it and took a small sip.

"When we found you out there – there was a lot of blood. Too much for it to be your blood, there wasn't someone else out there was there?"

Dean suddenly froze, all the color draining from his face, his eyes going wide in shock. Jenni set her bowl down onto the floor and grabbed Dean's arm, squeezing gently as Dean's horrified eyes turned back to look at her.

"Harry, holy crap."

"Dean?"

Dean shook his head and cleared his throat, his hands tightening into fists around the bed sheets that were on top of him. "Harry – there was this guy named Harry."

"Harry? Did you get a last name?"

Dean shook his head. "Poor bastard was torn up real bad when I found him – the harpy had grabbed him." Dean closed his eyes and lifted a hand to rub at his eyes, as though trying hard to remember. Jenni frowned as she watched Dean struggle to recall the memory.

"There was nothing I could do for him – he had literally been gutted. His stomach had been torn open and his intestines were spillin' out. He said something to me, but I don't – I can't really remember."

"It's ok, Dean – it's alright."

"No – I had to do something – he needed something from me. I promised." Dean pushed away the tray and pulled out of Jenni's grasp, holding his head in both hands. He had ditched the sling the day before – despite Sam and Jenni's best efforts to keep it on him. They had settled for the fact that he was keeping the wound bandaged and had decided not to press him.

"I know of two guys around here named Harry. One lives on the opposite side of the lake, his name is Harry Clearwater but there is a Harry that lives about half a mile from here named Harry DoLittle."

"He didn't say a last name, he said I had to tell Darla? Delilah? Debra? I can't remember – I was supposed to tell her something."

Jenni felt her stomach tighten suddenly as the image of an older kindly couple popped into her mind. "Dolly?" She guessed her stomach clenching even tighter when Dean's head popped up and he looked at her, his eyes widening as the name clicked in his brain.

"That's it – I was supposed to tell Dolly that he was sorry. He wanted her to know he was sorry that he'd gone out so late, even when she told him not to."

"Oh no." Jenni felt her eyes watering and looked down at her lap.

"Do you know them?"

"Yeah, I know them, Dean." Jenni looked up wiping a finger across the bottom of her eyes to stop her tears from falling. "They don't live very far from here actually – just up the road a ways. Harry and Dolly DoLittle, really nice people."

"She needs to know."

Jenni nodded. "I know – poor Dolly, she must be going out of her mind with worry right now." She looked up at Dean again, meeting his understanding gaze. "Where's the body?"

"Probably where I found it – not far from where you guys found me. It's in a small clearing, hidden right behind a large pine. The harpy didn't want any interruptions when she was ripping him apart."

"I'll have to call the police – and I'll talk to Dolly after the cops tell her. I don't think it'd be a good idea if you told her what Harry said to tell her."

"You're probably right – she might think I'd have had a hand in his death. Not that I stumbled across him right before he died."

"Don't worry, Dean, she'll get the message though. When I go talk to her – I'll work it in somehow."

"Thanks, Jenni, it just seemed really important to him that she know."

"It would be, Dolly was Harry's whole world. Well besides fishing that is – you couldn't get him away from this lake for anything. Dolly used to go fishing with him all the time until her arthritis started acting up – she couldn't hold the pole after that and didn't want to sit in the boat for hours and hours watching Harry fish. So he'd spend the day with her and go fishing at night after she'd gone to bed – she didn't like that very much. Said she had a bad feeling about the lake at night – but Harry did it anyway."

"She told you this?"

"No, Harry did one night. I was at the bar having a beer and he came in right before he headed out to the lake. He had a small fishing boat and liked to take a few bottles out with him. It was really late that night so I asked him if he was seriously going fishing right then – he said that the fish bite better at night."

Dean didn't have anything to say so he just eyed his cooling macaroni, not bothering to try and eat anymore.

"You should take your pain medication, Dean, it's time for it anyway. Don't worry about this – I'll make sure everything is taken care of."

Dean nodded and accepted the pill that Jenni shook out of the prescription bottle – he popped it into his mouth and took a few swallows of water to help it down.

"If you get hungry later just yell." Jenni said placing her bowl back on the tray and lifting it off Dean's lap.

Dean still didn't say anything – and for some reason that bothered Jenni more than if he had. Even if it had been a smart assed comeback. Dean gave the impression that he was rarely left speechless – so for this kind of reaction out of him she knew that it had gotten to him deeply.

When she got back to the kitchen Sam was still at the table, stirring the macaroni around in his bowl, staring blankly at the orange noodles.

"Guess you guys aren't real big on the macaroni are you?" Jenni asked setting the bowls into the sink, and filling them with water so they could soak.

Sam looked up at her. "Huh?"

Jenni nodded to the bowl that clearly hadn't been touched. "Dean didn't eat much of it either."

"No – I'm sure it's fine, Jenni. I'm just not real hungry."

Jenni lifted an eyebrow skeptically, sensing that something was bothering Sam. She took a seat opposite of him and looked at him curiously. "Sam? You ok?"

Sam didn't answer but continued to stare ahead of himself, once again stirring the cold macaroni.

"Dean said there was someone else out there."

"I know – I found him."

"You what?" Jenni was caught by surprise with this statement.

"I went out to check – just in case Dean didn't remember if there was someone else or not. I found the body – an older guy, practically gutted, his stomach was torn open and his intestines were all over the place. Bugs are nesting in there, maggots are everywhere."

Jenni grimaced at the image. "Sam, you had no idea."

"We should've checked – he died out there when we could've gotten him help."

"Sam," Jenni suddenly understood the depression. "Harry died before we even went to look for Dean."

Sam lifted an eyebrow at her, his eyes widening a little in surprise. "How do you know?"

"Dean remembered him, apparently he got there just before Harry died – there wasn't anything he could do for him. I think the only reason he really remembers is because Harry begged him to tell his wife that he was sorry that he went out after she warned him not to."

"We'll have to do something about the body – I could take care of it."

"No, Sam, let's call the authorities – Dolly has a right to put her husband to rest."

Sam nodded. "Yeah, she does."

"So," Jenni added changing the subject and picking up the bowl of macaroni that Sam clearly wasn't going to eat. "Next time I don't think I'll make something so exquisite."

Sam chuckled along with her and broke out of his trance so he could help her clean up their lunch. "I'm sorry, Jenni, I'm sure it was good."

"Don't worry about it, Sam, I understand. We have plenty of leftovers so we can always reheat later." Jenni stuck the casserole dish into the fridge next to the milk jug and joined Sam at the sink, filling one side with hot soapy water as she didn't have a dishwasher.

Sam grabbed a couple hand towels and placed them on the counter top as well as a larger rag that he would use to dry the dishes with.

They washed in silence, Jenni scrubbing and rinsing and Sam drying and setting aside on the towels. Jenni could feel something else was bothering him, but didn't know if Sam really wanted to talk about it or not – if he did she was sure he'd discuss it on his own terms.

"Jenni, you're not going to have Dean tell Dolly about Harry's last words are you?"

"No, I'm not. I didn't think it would be a good idea – she might think he had a hand in Harry's death. The last thing we need right now is an investigation."

Sam nodded and placed the clean cheese grater onto one of the towels.

"Sam, is something wrong?" Jenni asked fumbling around the bottom of the sink and pulling out the stopper.

Sam shook his head as he finished drying the last bowl and set it aside. "If Dean and I had made sure that we had finished her the first time we went up against this thing then Harry would still be alive."

"Sam, you couldn't have known." Jenni was sympathetic.

Sam would not be comforted. "We should've, Dad taught us better than that. Finish off the bad guy before tending to the wounded – one of his top rules. That damn leg – if I hadn't cut it off – we would have had the whole thing and she would have been taken care of. But I cut off that leg – that has to be it, that's why she's back."

"Sam, you aren't making a lot of sense."

"Never mind." Sam tossed the rag onto the faucet and hurried out of the kitchen without another word.

Jenni watched him, but not bothering to stop him. Sam clearly had a lot on his mind and needed to be alone. She sighed and picked up the cordless hanging on the wall – pressing the button for the operator. "I'd like to be connected with the police please."

***

Sam poked his head into the bedroom, hoping that Dean would be asleep – or on the verge of it. He wasn't in the mood to deal with Dean's sour attitude at the moment.

Dean was on his back, blankets pulled up over his shoulders, his head turned to the side, his eyes closed, and his breathing deep.

Sam let out a quiet breath and entered the room, closing the door as softly as he could behind him. He walked quietly around his brother's bed and settled down on his own, lying flat with his hands under his head, staring at the ceiling.

"Sam?"

Clearly Dean wasn't as asleep as he appeared. Sam turned his head slowly towards his brother's bed, narrowing his eyes slowly. The blue tinge his eyes had taken made everything further than a few feet away from him hard to focus on. "I'm right here, Dean."

Dean's head rolled sluggishly so it was facing Sam's bed. "Did you find it?"

"Find what?"

"The body?"

Sam sighed and turned onto his side, cupping his left hand under his head and propping himself up on his elbow. "How'd you know I'd go look for it?"

"That's what I would've done. There was a lot of blood out there – I remember that's why I tried to get out of there. All the blood."

"He was really torn apart, Dean."

"I know he was – I couldn't do anything for him, got there too late." Dean's voice was soft, almost whispered.

"We can't save everyone, Dean."

"Doesn't make it any easier, Sammy."

"I know." Sam sighed and squeezed his eyes shut briefly.

"Did you burn it?"

Sam shook his head, chewing on his bottom lip. "No, Jenni wants to call the authorities. I guess she thought it'd be best if Harry's family found out from them rather than us."

"I think she's got a point there, Sam." Dean's breathing became a little heavier as the pain medications started to drag him under.

"Do you think they'll do a full investigation on this?"

Dean shrugged lazily. "They could – but I doubt it. They'll probably sum it up to an animal attack."

"We should've been more careful, Dean. Made sure we finished the job."

"Neither of us were in any shape to go back out there, Sam."

"We need to finish her, Dean. You might have wounded her, but she'll be back."

"I know, Sammy."

"I could scout around – see where she…"

"No." Dean's eyes were suddenly open and fierce, all trace of weariness gone. "You're not going out there alone."

"You aren't in any condition to go out there, Dean."

"Neither are you, Sam."

"This thing needs to be stopped, Dean. We have to finish this."

"And we will."

"No I mean now!" Sam sat up on the bed, swinging his legs over the edge and glaring at his brother.

Dean met his gaze head on, not backing down. "How do you propose we do that, Sam, huh? Look at us – neither of us are fit to go out on a hunt."

"I'm fine."

"Oh really?"

"Yeah, really."

"Tell me something, how far away can you see? How clear does everything look to you?"

Sam frowned. "That's not important."

"It isn't? What happens when the bitch comes at you from up above Sam and you can't see her coming until she's too close to get away? Do you think I'm going to let you go out there and get torn apart by this thing?"

"Dean, you can't go out there – just look at yourself."

"Yeah, look at me! I mean seriously, Sam, do you think I want to go out there and find that this bitch did the same to you? Or worse what she did to Harry? Do you honestly think I could live with myself after that? It's still my job to look after you."

Sam clamped his teeth together and pursed his lips. "And who is supposed to look after you, Dean?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You won't stop will you? You just keep going until you're so worn down that you have nothing left to give. When is enough going to be enough?"

"I'm not going anywhere, Sam, kinda confined to the bed here."

"If you weren't you'd be going out there half cocked – trying to get this bitch though, wouldn't you?"

Dean didn't answer but dropped his eyes from Sam and that was enough answer for the youngest Winchester.

"Damn it, Dean. Why won't you let me help you on this – you almost got yourself killed last time."

"That's different."

"How? How is it different, Dean? What are you trying to prove?"

"Nothin'"

"Yeah, whatever." Sam shook his head and rolled back onto his back, once again staring at the ceiling.

"Have you tried Bobby? See if there are other hunters in the area?" Dean asked.

Sam closed his eyes and took in several deep breaths. "No."

"Maybe we should see if someone else can cover this – we aren't ready for this, Sam. If she comes back before we're ready – a lot more people are going to die. It's best to try and get someone else to cover so we can get back on our feet."

"I guess so."

"Sam, I know you want this thing – you want it bad. Trust me I understand completely – I want nothing more than that bitch's head on a platter myself, but we aren't going to be the ones to finish it. Not after everything, we need help."

"It just feels like giving up."

"We aren't giving up, Sam, but sometimes it's best to know your limitations – this hunt is one of them. It's best to call in the reserves."

"I'll call Bobby." Sam paused halfway through rising from the bed, his forehead suddenly crinkling.

"My phone is in my bag. We'll get you a new one when we head out of town."

Sam had to search for a moment, trying to find his brother's phone in the overly stuffed duffel.

Jenni rapped the door softly and pushed it open a bit. "Thought I'd catch up on my laundry – do you guys need any done?"

Sam shook his head. "Don't worry about it, Jenni – I'll do it later."

"If you're sure."

"Yeah, it's fine." Sam succeeded in pulling out the phone and began scrolling through Dean's contacts.

Dean watched him through half closed eyes as Sam pressed the send button and held the phone to his ear.

"Hey, Bobby." Sam began to pace between the two beds.

"That's kinda the reason I'm calling – we're going to need help. You know of any hunters in the area?" He paused his forehead crinkling. "It's moved down near Millwood Lake. We tried to finish her off – but things got –" Sam hesitated looking at Dean who was on the verge of sleep. "Complicated." Sam finally finished.

Dean listened to Sam's end of the conversation, knowing that Bobby wouldn't buy Sam's explanation.

He didn't seem to be asking questions either though. Dean assumed that Bobby told Sam that he'd call around because Sam thanked him and snapped the phone closed.

"He'll see who's available." Sam said tossing the phone onto Dean's duffel and sitting on the edge of the bed.

Dean groaned as the bed shifted under Sam's weight, making his injured leg slip slightly on the smooth sheets.

"You've had your pain meds?"

"Yes, Samantha."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Don't you think you could come up with something a little more original, Dean?"

"Why go for something new when the classics still work?"

Sam shook his head but laughed anyway. "Get some sleep, Dean, I have a feeling we're going to need the rest."

"Is there any of that macaroni left?"

Sam nodded and pulled his glasses off his nose, rubbing gently at his eyes. "There's a whole casserole dish filled with it."

"Good, it was pretty good."

Sam gave his brother a small smirk and rose from the bed, folding his glasses in one palm. "I'll be in the living room if you need me. Just yell – don't do something stupid."

"You know me, Sam, I'd never do something like that."

"Right." Sam grumbled pulling open the door and stepping into the hall. He sent one last glance at his brother, smiling as he saw Dean sinking further under the blankets and adjusting himself into a more comfortable position. Sam closed the door and headed down the hall, twirling his glasses around between his fingers.

Jenni was sitting on the couch, staring at the fire that was sparking in the fireplace. Sam sank down onto the cushion next to her, sighing lightly. "You ok?"

Jenni shook her head, but continued to stare into the fireplace. "It just seems so surreal."

Sam nodded and looked to the fire. The blue colored flames jumped about the logs, sparking and popping sending small blue sparks up into the air where they sizzled out and disappeared. It looked beyond strange, and Sam found himself captivated by it.

"I just can't believe Harry's really gone – he's always been a constant thing up here. Poor Dolly – this is going to kill her."

"She'll need a good friend."

"I'll be there for her, if she wants me. I called with an anonymous tip – but I'm sure that the police will come around asking if we've seen anything.

Sam nodded. "Especially with it being so close to the cabin."

"Why Harry though? Why'd this thing go after him?"

Sam shrugged. "An easy target, probably. A fisherman alone on his boat in the middle of the night – no witnesses, it's dark, he's older – makes for pretty easy pickings."

Jenni sniffed and rubbed at her eyes to stop her mascara from running. "Do you think you and Dean will be ok if I run down to Dolly's for a while?"

"Of course – take all the time you need."

Jenni nodded and disappeared down the hall to grab her jacket. She came back, pulling the impala's keys from her pocket. "I'm going to close the blinds and take the impala – that way no one will think you guys are here. It's best if we don't draw too much attention to ourselves. If the policeman does ask questions I can answer them while I'm with Dolly – hopefully they won't stop by here. Don't answer the door though – just in case. I'll lock up on my way out."

Sam nodded and turned back to looking at the blue flames.

"Dean asleep?"

"He was close to it – if he bitches about the impala again I'll just say you ran out to get more groceries – it will keep him from moaning too much."

Jenni laughed. "I'll pick up some frozen pizzas or something on the way home. We'll just do an easy dinner tonight."

"Don't worry about dinner – we have leftovers and there's stuff for sandwiches too."

"Don't be silly, Sam. If Dean finds out I took the impala and I don't come back with something for him – we both know I'll never hear the end of it."

Sam laughed. "The way he fusses over that car…"

"It is a nice car, Sam, he told me he rebuilt it himself. He's done a nice job with it – anyone would want to be careful after something like that."

"I guess so – that car is the only thing he'd focus on after the accident – for a long time. He wouldn't stop working on it unless he had to. When it got too dark to see he'd come in, then he'd get cleaned up and go to bed. He'd be out there with the car just after sunrise every morning." Sam's eyes glassed over slightly as his memories drowned him.

"You want something from the store – something special I can get either of you?"

"Just get whatever you want, Jenni. Dean will eat anything."

"I'll be back in a few hours." Jenni disappeared down the hall. Sam heard her moving about the front room, he assumed closing the blinds, then the front door opened, closed, and locked behind her.


	36. Chapter 36

A/N: Thanks again guys for following this story so far, last chapter will be posted tomorrow. And a big thanks to those who have taken the time to review – means a lot.

Chapter 36

The sun had long since disappeared over the horizon before Sam heard the throaty grumble of the returning impala. He looked up from the book he was reading, the same one that Jenni had discarded the day before, tabbed his place, and dropped it onto the floor then opened front door.

Jenni was making her way up the porch stoop weighed down with several plastic grocery bags.

"How'd things go?" Sam asked as he helped to lighten Jenni's load.

"She's really shaken up – police got there right after I did." Jenni shook her head as she brushed past Sam and hurried down to the kitchen. Sam shut and secured the door before following her.

Jenni had set her grocery bags on the table and was preheating the oven for the frozen pizza she had picked up. She dug her fingernails under the cardboard flaps and ran her fingers along the edge, easing away the glue that kept the box closed.

"I just didn't really know what to say to her – you know?" Jenni placed the pizza on a cookie sheet and set it on the burners.

"It's not easy." Sam agreed seating himself at the table.

"I'm going to be going back and forth a bit – she's going to need some help with the arrangements and things. She almost seems like she's in shock – all the stress and worry and then the news from the cops." Jenni shook her head as she pulled the coffee canister down and began to scoop some of the dark brown grinds into a clean filter. "It was too much for her."

"That's fine, Jenni – do what you need to." Sam assured.

"I bought a lot of easy meals you can make, Sam." Jenni pulled down three mugs for the brewing coffee and began to pack away the groceries.

The oven beeped three times indicating it was preheated; Jenni paused in her task so she could shove the pizza into the oven. "Did he wake up while I was out?"

"For a minute, but he was still pretty out of it."

"Is he awake now?"

Sam shrugged. "I checked on him twenty minutes ago – he was still sleeping."

"Let's not wake him until we have to – I'm sure he'll be more agreeable if he has food in his belly."

Sam smirked and peered into one of the remaining grocery bags. His eyes widened and his eyebrows rose as he spotted a very familiar large candy bag. "Trying to bribe someone?" He teased looking back at Jenni and giving her a wide smile at the confused look on her face.

"What was that?" Jenni asked as she placed a bag of chicken thighs into the freezer.

Sam pulled out the peanut M&M bag and shook it, the contents banging against each other, sounding a bit like marbles. "You trying to bribe Dean into something?"

Jenni grinned and took the yellow bag from Sam's fingers, cutting open the top and offering some to Sam. He accepted a handful and sucked on the sweet candy coating and milk chocolate.

"Dean's favorite I'm assuming?" Jenni popped a couple of the candies into her own mouth and crunched them between her teeth.

"Well, let's put it this way – if you ever want anything from him bribery gets you a lot further than threats."

"I'll have to remember that." Jenni said her tone light as she poured coffee into two mugs before setting the pot back onto the hot burner. She'd take coffee into Dean when she brought him his dinner.

Sam accepted the coffee and smiled when Jenni brought him the milk from the fridge as well as the sugar canister. He knew that Dean would consider this a waste of perfectly good coffee, but Sam had never cared for the strong overpowering flavor of black coffee. He poured a bit of milk and stirred a couple teaspoons of sugar into his coffee, his spoon clinking against the edges of his ceramic mug.

Jenni sipped from her own mug, staring blankly ahead at the far wall – her thoughts a million miles away.

Sam's stomach grumbled as the sweet smell of spices, tomato sauce, and cheeses warmed in the hot confines of the oven.

Jenni pulled open the door and checked on the pizza, nodded once and closed the door again. She turned back to face Sam, her face worried. "Sam, did the police stop by?"

"I saw their lights through the blinds, and someone knocked at the door a couple times – but nothing too serious. We kept out of sight, and since Dean was asleep I wasn't worried about him being inquisitive as to who it was."

"That's a relief. I just hope the cops don't ask too many questions – the scene was extremely bloody and the blood was up really high on some of those trees…it is bound to raise suspicions."

"We'll handle things as they happen." Sam assured as he lifted his coffee mug and took a sip.

"I know – I just…" Jenni trailed off and turned to the doorway, suddenly alert and tense.

Sam stiffened and rose from his seat, joining Jenni's side and narrowing his eyes and cursing the thick glasses he had to wear.

A soft thump and shuffle sounded from the living area, something soft was being dragged across the hardwood floor. Jenni held up a hand to Sam, motioning for him to stay put while she exited the kitchen to go check it out.

Sam, of course, paid her no mind and followed her out of the kitchen, one step behind her. He shifted a hand to the waistband of his jeans and fingered the glock he kept on him at all times. It had become such a familiar lump – such a part of him that he never even noticed it unless he needed it.

"Dean? What are you doing? Are you nuts?"

Sam instantly relaxed and then tensed once more as he hurried up to his brother, who was leaning over the back of the couch, trying to catch his breath. His injured arm was held close to his body at an angle and his injured leg was held out, in what Sam had to assume was a very uncomfortable position.

Dean had his heel down on the floor and his toes elevated in the air, his knee was straight and he was holding the leg out slight in front of him. He turned his head as Sam and Jenni entered the room and offered them a cocky grin.

"What the hell are you doing?" Sam snapped as he grabbed Dean's left arm and attempted to pull it over his shoulders, but Dean jerked it away again, placing it once more on the couch back while trying to slow his panting.

Drops of sweat trickled down Dean's forehead and stung his eyes. He blinked them away and shook his head as Sam offered a hand to him once again. "I'm fine, Sam."

"I can see that, Dean." Sam said crossing his arms over his chest and glaring at his sibling. "What the hell are you doing out of bed?"

"I smelled coffee." Dean tried to straighten, and winced when the movement pulled at his injured leg. Sam and Jenni didn't miss it and both frowned disapprovingly at him.

"You couldn't wait ten minutes?" Jenni asked incredulously.

Dean grinned broadly and took a step forward, barely managing to catch himself on the couch before he fell when his bad leg buckled beneath him.

"Let's sit you down before you fall down." Sam insisted snaking his hand around Dean's waist and pulling Dean's left arm over his shoulder.

The two brothers headed slowly back to the kitchen, Dean's bum leg slowing them down dramatically. Jenni stepped ahead of them and filled the last mug with some of the sweet smelling brew and put it on the table, then pulled out a couple seats for Dean.

Sam was grumbling under his breath by the time he got Dean to the table and slid Dean's arm away from his shoulders.

"Stubborn ass." Sam muttered as Dean sank gratefully onto the provided seat. Jenni lifted Dean's leg onto another chair to keep the limb elevated.

"Think we should check the stitches." Jenni said sternly, pulling up the baby blue pajama pants.

"I didn't tear anything." Dean said stubbornly, grabbing Jenni's wrist in one of his large hands.

"You just walked from the bedroom to the living room, unaided – when you shouldn't be up and moving around at all. I'm going to check it, Dean."

"I'm fine." Dean slumped back in his seat, and flinched when he accidentally jolted his injured arm.

"You've been dosed up on pain killers for the past few days, Dean – you're nowhere near fine." Sam said darkly.

Jenni lifted her eyes to meet Sam's briefly, but didn't say anything as she began to unwrap the bindings around Dean's thigh.

"You actually expect me to sit in there twiddling my thumbs all day?"

"I expect you to follow the doctor's orders, Dean, yes! How else do you expect to get better?"

"Come on, Sam, you can't be serious? I'm bored out of my skull in there."

Sam rolled his eyes and turned his attention to Jenni who was prodding the stitches thoughtfully with a gentle finger.

"Doesn't seem to be any damage done." Jenni said finally satisfied as she reached for the bandages. "You were lucky this time, Dean, that was quite a stunt you pulled."

Dean grinned and pulled his coffee cup closer to him, examining the contents critically for a moment before taking a sip.

Sam took his seat once more and Jenni hurried to the oven as the buzzer sounded. She flipped off the heat, opened the door, and slid the cookie sheet out with the aid of a couple hot pads. She set it atop the burners and kicked the oven door closed as she began shuffling through her drawers looking for a pancake turner.

She found one in the third drawer she tried and holding the cookie sheet with one hand, used the utensil to cut the pizza into personal slices. It wasn't as effective as a pizza cutter would have been, but she had to make do. She pulled out some paper plates and slid two slices of pizza onto each of them.

"Did you really spoil good coffee with that crap, Sam?"

Sam rolled his eyes and took the plate Jenni handed to him. He set it down on the table and stared at the blue shadded toppings.

"Dean, don't tease your brother." Jenni said nudging Dean's left shoulder playfully as she handed Dean his plate.

Dean smirked and immediately lifted a slice of pizza to his mouth, working on his first bite before the plate even touched the tabletop.

"You going back to Dolly's tomorrow then, Jenni?" Sam asked as he struggled to lift one of the slices of pizza off his plate. It seemed almost as if the cheeses had glued itself to the paper as it stuck to it relentlessly and some of the toppings were beginning to slide off the Italian spices and hard crust.

"In the morning, probably."

"What'd you tell her?" Dean asked as he watched on in amusement as Sam continued to struggle with his pizza slice.

"I didn't say much actually – she wasn't in the best condition to hear me out. She was in hysterics at first and then she just needed to have a good cry. I'm sure I'll be able to get Harry's message to her - probably tomorrow or the day after that. But don't worry, she'll get it."

Dean nodded and took another large bite of pizza while he smirked at his brother. Sam had finally managed to get most of the cheese back on top of the sauce covered crust, although it was in a large clumpy mess. Globs of cheese still clung to the plate and a few loose mushrooms and olives had slid free from the cheese. Dean reached over and helped himself to the wayward toppings, popping them into his mouth, and smirking as Sam's dark glare shot in his direction.

Jenni rose from the table, not having grabbed any pizza for herself. "I think I'm going to go to bed early. Sam, will you make sure the pizza is taken care of when you guys are done?"

Sam nodded and took his first bite, grimacing as Dean stuffed most of his crust into his mouth and proceeded to take a sip from the coffee mug before him.

"Night, guys." Jenni waved as she disappeared from the kitchen.

"Night, Jenni." Both boys echoed before looking back at each other.

"Do you think you could possibly stuff anymore into your mouth, Dean?"

"Probably." Dean admitted through a mouthful of pizza. He lifted the extra slice slowly and grinned at Sam, not bothering to swallow. "Want a fork, Samantha?"

Sam sighed and shook his head, rolling his eyes to the ceiling. "Real funny, Dean."

"I'm just sayin'" Dean chuckled and took another sip of his coffee.

"Then don't." Sam muttered as he folded his pizza neatly down the middle and took another large bite, making the food much easier to get cleanly into his mouth.

"Well aren't you grumpy?" Dean laughed lightly as he finished the last bit of his second piece and wiped his fingers on the pajama pants.

"What'd you expect after that little stunt you pulled?"

"Think you should loosen up a little, Sammy."

"Dean, you aren't supposed to be walking on that leg."

"Well I did."

"You're such a jerk."

"Bitch." Dean looked over to the stove and the remains of the pizza. "Want to get me some more, Sam?" He smiled brightly as Sam scowled. "You said yourself that I shouldn't be on my leg."

"Yet you managed to get to the living room on your own just fine." Sam grumbled, but he rose anyway. He snatched the paper plate from Dean's fingers and tossed another slice of pizza onto it.

"Get the coffee while you're over there too, would ya?"

Sam shook his head but picked up the coffee pot and brought both back to the table. He set the coffee pot where both brothers could easily reach it and dropped Dean's plate before him.

If Dean was bothered by Sam's mood he didn't show it. He picked up the pizza slice with enthusiasm and began to eat.

Sam toyed with his second slice of pizza, not all that hungry.

Dean frowned at his brother, watching as the dangling cheese fell into a limp pile onto the greasy paper plate. "You gonna eat or play with that, Sam?"

Sam set it back on the plate and shoved it away. "I'm not very hungry."

Dean shook his head and reached for the coffee, Sam had to nudge it forward a bit with the tips of his fingers before Dean could grasp the handle. He topped off his coffee mug and lifted the still warm brew to his mouth, his eyes locked on his brother. "What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing."

Dean swallowed and shook his head, placing the coffee mug back on the table. He leaned forward a bit, letting his good arm rest on the polished service as he studied his brother critically. "What is it?"

"I said I'm fine, Dean."

"Which means you're not."

Sam shook his head and rose from the table, taking his plate and coffee mug with him. "Don't worry about it, Dean, it's nothing."

"Which means it's something serious, Sam. What is it?"

Sam dropped the plate into the garbage and dumped the remains of his coffee down the sink. He filled the mug with water, tapping his fingers against the edge of the basin while he pondered on whether he should really confide how he was feeling to Dean.

"Sam?"

Sam chewed on his lip and slapped his hand against the faucet with a bit more force than necessary, bringing the water's flow to an abrupt halt. He didn't turn to face his brother, rather he stayed facing the wall, his shoulders bunched, his whole body going tense. He clung to the edge of the counter, his head dropping slightly as he drew in several deep deliberate breaths.

"I didn't know what to think when I found Harry out there, Dean. The way he was torn up – what the harpy did to him, I don't even know how to say it…" Sam shook his head and slowly turned to face his brother.

Dean straightened a bit as he saw Sam's pasty complexion. Sam's skin was so pale it was almost translucent – his hazel eyes were blown wide magnified ridiculously by those large glasses, making it almost comical, but there was nothing funny about this situation. Sam wasn't looking at him, but was rather looking at the ceiling, his teeth burrowing into his bottom lip as he fought for control of his emotions.

"Sammy," Dean began, unsure of what to say.

"That could've been you out there, Dean. That bitch could've done the same thing to you. What would I have done if…" Sam dropped his chin, looking down at his socked feet. He twitched his toes slowly as he dug his fingernails into the tender skin of his forearms.

"I'm sorry, Sam."

Sam looked up at his brother, his eyes sparkling with unshed tears.

"I'm sorry I scared you – I didn't want to do that."

"But you're not sorry you went after this thing alone?"

Dean frowned and dropped his gaze to his lap, slowly shaking his head. "No, I'm not sorry that I went after her – I'm sorry that you feel like I should be sorry though. But it's my job to make sure you're safe, Sam, nothin' is gonna change that."

Sam opened his mouth but was saved from responding to that remark by the vibrating of Dean's cell in his pocket. He instead settled for a silent, but deadly stare, and pulled out the phone. He glanced briefly at the caller ID then flipped the case open and held the device to his ear.

"Bobby?"

Dean leaned back in his chair, glanced at the cold and unappetizing pizza. He made a face and turned away, not that he was all that hungry anymore anyway. He watched Sam as he listened in on his brother's side of the conversation.

"What about Joshua?" Sam asked suddenly pushing away from the counter and running a hand through his hair and pacing about the kitchen. Dean knew from Sam's agitated body language that Bobby wasn't calling with good news. He slumped a bit in his chair, furrowing his brow as he thought about what could be done with the harpy.

"I see, what about…? No, huh?" Sam sighed and shook his head, holding his free hand to his glasses to keep them from slipping down the bridge of his nose.

"I don't know – Dean and I aren't really in the best shape for hunting right now."

Dean frowned at this but didn't comment on it. He didn't like being labeled as incapable, but he knew that Sam was right. Neither of them were ready to go after this thing again – hell he had been the one who had suggested this. But having it come from Sam was different, made him feel a lot weaker than it should have and he immediately got on the defensive.

Sam didn't seem to notice and was continuing his pacing about the small kitchen. "Dean injured her, but I don't know how bad – or how long she'll have to recuperate for. Probably not as long as us though."

Dean watched as Sam grew silent, listening to something that Bobby was saying. He held out his hand for the phone but Sam waved him away and pressed it tighter to his ear.

"Gimme the phone."

Sam shook his head and turned away, pressing a finger into his free ear to muffle Dean's complaints. "Thanks, Bobby. I guess we'll have to make do for now." Sam pulled the phone away from his ear and shut the case, dropping the small item onto the nearest counter and seconds later deposited his glasses right next to it. He ran his hands up and down his face, rubbing wearily.

"What the hell was that about, Sam?"

"Bobby can't find any hunters that are even close to Arkansas right now, Dean. He said he could probably get here in a week – he's got something up there that's keeping him busy, but he said he'd get here as soon as he could. We're on our own for now."

"You're kidding? Where's Joshua?"

"He's in investigating a chupacabra sighting – he couldn't be here for at least four days, even if he didn't have a hunt of his own. Bobby said he tried all his contacts and everyone is too far away to be of much use, or are working a hunt of their own."

"Damn it!"

"Tell me about it." Sam grabbed the glasses again and shoved them back onto his face, pushing against the frame until they hideous things sat as far up as they could go on his nose. "You done? Ready to get back to bed and off that leg?"

Dean looked back to the half eaten slice of slightly warm pizza with its congealing cheese and nodded. "Yeah, leg's starting to hurt like a bitch."

"I believe it." Sam agreed as he grabbed Dean's left arm and steadied his brother while he eased the injured leg back to the floor. Dean barely suppressed a moan as sharp needles started prickling his already aching limb. Sam gently rocked Dean into a standing position and pulled Dean's arm over his shoulders to help support the elder as they started back to the bedroom.

They didn't speak as they made their way down the hall, Dean concentrating too hard on trying not to fall and Sam too lost in his own thoughts and worries about the hunt that they would have to complete on their own. It wasn't going to be easy – and he was determined not to let the harpy get the best of either of them again. She had done enough damage as it was, and both of them were suffering because of it.

"Sam?"

"Yeah, Dean?"

"Bedroom is this way, dude." Dean paused leaning slightly against the wall and letting his forehead rest against the drywall and paint. He was breathing harder than normal and his brow glistened with sweat, the front of his shirt was soaked with it.

"We'll have to get you a fresh shirt, Dean." Sam gestured to the soaked shirt with a bob of his head.

Dean didn't answer, but instead, clenched his jaw together and nodded once. Sam frowned, realizing just how much pain his brother had to be in. Dean was never one to voice how bad he was hurting, but the fact that he hadn't made some smart ass comment about Sam trying to get him out of his shirt told Sam far more than words ever could. Dean's pain was intense, and he was in desperate need of meds to help ease the agonizing pain ripping through his battered body.

The walk to the bed was extremely long – it felt as though it dragged on for miles, and took hours to get to it. Dean sagged against him a bit more with each tedious step he took. By the time Sam unhooked Dean's arm from around his neck he was all but dragging his brother along.

Dean sank back onto the mattress, his eyes closed and clenched tightly in pain, his brow furrowed. Sam watched as Dean took in several deep slow painful breaths, trying to get his panting under control once again.

"How the hell did you make it out there on your own?" Sam asked as he retrieved the prescription bottle from atop the dresser and palmed it along with the half filled water bottle they had brought in a couple days ago. It was warm, but the sooner Dean got his pill the more comfortable he would be.

Dean accepted the pill and warm water without comment. He tossed the pill into his mouth, almost shooting the thing down his throat, before drowning the rest of the water bottle, and closing his eyes again almost immediately.

"'S called willpower, Sammy."

"More like being a stubborn ass, Dean." Sam sat on the edge of the bed and began picking at the quilt.

"Yeah, well…" Dean didn't bother continuing – both brothers knew what was going to come from him anyway.

"So what are we going to do about the harpy, Dean?"

Dean sighed and slowly opened his eyes, blinking away the moisture that had built up there from the pain that had left him feeling helpless and exhausted. "I don't know, Sammy. I don't know what we can do. We're not really in the best shape to go after her."

"I know that – but we can't let her go on hurting people."

"I drove the blade pretty deep into that bitch's chest – she won't be doing any hunting of her own for a while."

"Maybe not, but she won't be happy when she does come back, Dean. Chances are is that she'll come gunning for us first chance she gets."

"Probably."

"There has to be a way for us to stop her."

"We'll figure it out, Sam, don't worry about it right now."

"We need to have a plan, Dean."

Dean blinked sleepily at his sibling, his soft jade eyes twinkling with amusement and unending patience. "Why do we have to worry about that right now?"

"Why not?"

"Well if you think about it, Sam, it's kinda obvious. We're both dead on our feet – you've just drugged me up and I can see from here that you're not far off from passing out yourself. We can worry about this in the morning – there isn't any sense in getting worked up about this bitch when we can't even stay awake."

Sam had to admit that what Dean was saying made sense. He could feel his own fatigue nagging at him, could feel the tired slump of his shoulders, had noticed the way his feet had dragged a bit more on the floor on their way back to the bedroom. Even the caffeine in the coffee hadn't done much to help keep him awake. It had been a hard week for both of them, and his own soft bed with warm blankets and worn pillows was looking more welcoming every second.

"You're right, Dean, we'll worry about it tomorrow. I'll just go take care of the pizza – I'll be back."

Dean waved him off with a lazy flick of his hand. Sam rolled his eyes and left him alone in the room. Dean listened as Sam's footfalls disappeared down the hall again. He tugged his shirt over his head, dropping the sweat soaked garment onto the floor and rolled on his side, adjusting himself so he was facing Sam's bed.

Sam returned a moment later, yawning and scratching at the top of his head. He smirked when he saw Dean on his side, right arm dangling off the bed, his head all but buried into the pillow and the blankets were already beginning to rumple at Dean's feet. Dean's eyes were closed, and his breathing was deep – but his face still looked tense, not at all relaxed.

Sam quietly slipped over to the bed, adjusting the blankets over his drugged brother – knowing Dean was too far gone to ever know that Sam had tucked him in. He smiled as he remembered the countless times that Dean had done the same for him over the years. He pressed the back of his hand briefly against Dean's brow, making sure his brother hadn't developed a fever, and when satisfied that he hadn't Sam walked back to turn off the overhead light. He stumbled a bit in the dark, but found his bed quickly. He pulled his glasses off, dropping them onto the bedside table, then kicked off his jeans, pulled his t-shirt over his head and crawled underneath the cool sheets. Moments later he too was asleep.

***

Blood was splattered all over the trees – the strong smell of iron hung heavily in the air. The leaves were heavy with the stains that had dried under the sun. The dirt had soaked up a good portion of the blood that had been spilled onto it, but her sense of smell was powerful enough that she could still make out scent of his blood.

It had stained the ground, had run in rivers along the soft earth, had filled the empty spaces in the dirt as it had left his body. Bugs had swam in it, had laid their young in it, had spoiled it. It was no use to her now, the blood on the trees had dried and was now flaking off in small brown flakes when gently brushed – that too would be no good to her.

She lifted her head slowly – looking up at the full blown moon. The silver streams of light it cast into the forest barely penetrated the canopy above her. She walked slowly, limping as the pain in her chest increased, the wound not yet completely healed. She would need to feed – would need the nourishment to help her recuperate. It'd help her feel stronger as well – be more ready for the stranger that had done this to her, who had ruined her dinner for her. Now her dinner was gone – although by now it would've been spoiled, the bugs would have gotten to it for sure. She'd been gone several days, the wound bad enough to keep her underground until the bleeding had eased.

Her long wings quivered slightly, she let them drift to the ground, the rough black feathers dug up the soft earth as soon as they touched it. The razor sharp ends brushed the barks of the trees – almost cutting them off their trunks without even trying.

Her long talons dug into the ground, grooving several inches into the packed dirt as she sniffed around for any other sign of her quarry. She found the stranger's scent at the log where she had tossed him, leaving him for later, but it was covered with several more unfamiliar and unappetizing scents. Some prey smelled better than others – and he had smelled particularly sweet to her, same as the man she had originally taken. His blood had sung to her with it's sweet tempting melody, the one who had disturbed her had more active blood – it had thrummed in his veins, egging her on with every beat of his heart.

Her large beak opened and closed several times as she remembered the scent. As soon as she had torn him the first time she had smelled it – the scent so powerfully bittersweet that she almost couldn't resist. She would have torn him apart right then if he hadn't attacked her. He had been faster than she had anticipated, and it had damaged her badly. She still struggled to fly – and every day she found herself walking a little bit less, her body too weak to try and carry her weight.

However, this didn't bother her. If this body did give up on her, which was a possibility if she didn't feed, she would be reborn. Her new body would be perfect and stronger than this one had been. In her new body she could take down the stranger – and stop any of the others that tried to help him.

She stuck out her tongue, licking a patch of dried blood that had fallen onto the log where he had landed. The blood was still sweet, making her mouth water with anticipation. Drops of saliva fell from her slightly open beak, making large puddles on the ground that would disappear into the earth overnight.

Slowly she drew her wings back to her body, letting them rest on her back as she made her way through the trees, her head ducked low and a slow stream of blood from the still oozing chest wound trailed after her.

***

Dean wasn't sure what woke him, but he was sure that he couldn't have been asleep for too long. The room was still cloaked in darkness, and the outside world was still humming with the familiar cadence of nocturnal creatures.

He lay still, breathing deeply, not bothering to open his eyes. He could hear Sam on the opposite bed, his deep breathing steady and unbroken. Whatever it was that had woken Dean had not yet gotten around to waking Sam, and for that he was grateful. The kid deserved to have a good night's , one that wouldn't be plagued with nightmares.

Still, if something was amiss enough to wake Dean, it wouldn't be long before Sam too was awake. It was up to Dean to make sure that Sam got the sleep his body so desperately needed.

Grinding his teeth together, and pulling his lips into a thin hard line to silence any sounds that might try to escape, Dean gingerly rolled himself onto his side and pushed up onto his elbow.

The pain was tolerable, the pain meds still clearly doing their work, which made it easier for him as he rolled all the way out of bed.

His bare feet hit the floor, the carpet was cool under his skin, and a slight shiver traveled up his bare legs. He felt rather exposed wandering around in his boxers, but he wasn't sure where his blue pajama pants were and didn't want to turn on the light to try and find them. That would surely wake his brother.

So, instead, he crept quietly across the floor on the balls of his feet, keeping his arms around his bare torso and rubbing at the goose bumps that were popping out all over his tanned skin.

The bedroom door creaked a little when he opened it, and Dean froze – looking over at Sam's bed.

He could see Sam's lanky form shift under the covers, before turning restlessly, but Sam didn't wake. Dean let out a soft breath and stepped out into the hall, closing the door as softly as he could behind him.

The wooden floor was a lot cooler than the carpet had been and Dean found his body trembling without his consent.

_Suck it up, Winchester. _

He clung to himself tighter and padded across the hall, peering inside Jenni's exposed bedroom.

The bedside lamp was on, the covers turned down and the pillows propped up against the headboard, but other than that the bed looked undisturbed. The personal bathroom door was open and the light off, Jenni's jacket had been tossed over the back of the desk chair in the corner, and her tennis shoes were sitting against the far wall. But there was no sign of her.

Frowning uneasily, Dean started down the hall, cursing to himself as he bumped into the walls as he stumbled along in the dark.

His leg was starting to ache and he found himself limping heavily, favoring the injured limb. He knew Sam would kill him if he found out about Dean's second little escapade in one day, but he could worry about that later.

The living area was shrouded in darkness, the logs that had been burning earlier had dissolved to ash, a few red embers still sat amongst the remains and popped, shooting up into the dark fireplace before fading out and joining the pile of dark ash.

Dean looked to the kitchen and hobbled to it when he saw the light was on. He clenched his right hand into a fist and kept it close to his body, clenching his jaw as the pin pricks of sharp pain started at the base of his elbow. He knew he was definitely going to feel all this movement in the morning.

He paused in the doorway, leaning his head against the doorframe and frowning tiredly when he saw Jenni at the table, a cup of coffee and donut by her side, a book in her hands.

Jenni looked up from her book when she felt foreign eyes on her, and immediately was on her feet, dropping the book onto the table. She hurried over to Dean, but paused upon reaching him, looking up into those large expressionless eyes.

"Dean, what's wrong?"

"Little late to be up isn't it?"

"I couldn't sleep – reading usually helps." Jenni stepped aside as Dean pushed away from the doorframe and started to make his way to the table, aching for a place to sit. "You want some coffee?"

"Sure." Dean settled down into a chair, grimacing as he tried to find a good position for his leg. He compromised by stretching it out as far as he could then reached across the table and snatched Jenni's donut.

Jenni poured coffee into a mug and handed it to him, smirking when she saw her donut in his hands. She didn't bother pointing out that she had picked up a whole box of them earlier, but rather settled for helping herself to another one and joined Dean at the table.

Dean was looking at her book critically, turning it around so he could read the title properly. "This any good?"

"I love it." Jenni nodded as she eyed the cover of her book.

Dean opened it and began flipping through the pages, gently fanning, but not really looking at them. "What's it about?"

"Vampires."

Dean's eyes narrowed marginally.

"It's actually really good – I think I saw Sam looking at it earlier."

"He always was a bookworm. Used to read anything he could get his hands on when we were little." Dean scoffed as he took a sip of his coffee.

"A friend recommended it – I wasn't high on the idea of reading about vampires, but I've really enjoyed these books."

"So what's with the apple?"

Jenni looked at the cover critically. "I think it has something to do with choices, actually."

"An apple?" Dean cocked his eyebrow in disbelief and pursed his lips.

"Well, if you think about it – apples have quite a history in human lore. They are often tied in with making choices."

Dean didn't look convinced so Jenni continued.

"Think about it – Snow White? Paris and the golden apple? Adam and Eve? They are quite the versatile fruit."

"Just seems really strange to have on the cover of a book that has to do with vampires."

"I don't think that _Twilight_ is your average every day vampire story, Dean."

"Probably not – not many people know that such things really do exist" Dean pushed the book away with the tips of his fingers. Jenni pulled it closer to her and flipped it open to where she had been reading earlier, her lips curling up as she submerged herself into its pages.

Dean nibbled at his donut, his eyes wandering all over the room, before finally settling on looking out the back window.

"Dean?"

"Hmm?" Dean asked distracted, turning back to look at Jenni.

Jenni looked up from her book, her eyes a bit distressed and her face worn. "Nothing, never mind."

Dean leaned over the table, resting is good arm on the smooth surface, his eyebrows pulling together in a slight frown. "Jenni, what is it?"

"I don't know – it's just…do you ever get the feeling that something is about to happen? Something you can't control? But you have no way of stopping it?"

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know I've got this pit in my stomach – like something's wrong."

Dean felt his own insides tighten. Memories of the hospital rushed him and he found he couldn't breathe.

_You said a reaper was after me? How'd I ditch it? ___

_Dean, you really don't remember anything? ___

_No. Except this pit in my stomach. Sam, something's wrong.___

_I want you to watch out for Sammy, okay?___

_Yeah, Dad, you know I will. You're scarin' me.___

_Don't be scared, Dean. _

"Dean, are you ok? Dean!"

He felt hands on his shoulders, pushing him up against the back of his chair. His head was ducked down to his chest, his uninjured arm had found it's way to his head, his fingers were fisted in his short hair. His head was spinning, he felt nauseous and dizzy, he was trembling, but couldn't stop it. The world was spinning around him in a dark blur, a loud ringing had started in his ears – he was finding it hard to concentrate on anything.

"Dean!" Jenni was getting frantic. She had practically jumped the length of the table when she had seen Dean's face drain instantly of color and his eyes roll up into his head. He was breathing shallowly, and his fists were clenched so tightly that he was bound to leave nail marks in his soft skin. She was holding him up, certain that the only thing keeping him from falling from his chair was herself. She didn't know how long she could hold him up though. He was a lot bigger and heavier than she was, and it was only with tremendous force that she was able to keep him seated.

He reached up with his right hand and grabbed onto Jenni's arm, tightening his fingers convulsively on her. She watched as he fought for control, willing himself to calm down. He took in deeper breaths, trying to slow his hyperventilation without much success.

Jenni grabbed the back of his neck firmly, and pushed his head to his knees. "Deep breaths, Dean. Nice and easy."

His body was quivering under her grasp, and his skin was slick with sweat, but Jenni kept her firm hold on him. He shuddered as he took in several deep breaths, blowing slowly through his mouth as he nodded and pushed her away, straightening slowly in his seat.

Jenni crouched next to his chair, looking at him through narrow eyes. "Maybe we should get you back to bed, Dean."

Dean shook his head weakly and reached for his coffee mug. He wrapped his longer fingers around it, and allowed the warmth to flow through his quivering hand.

"Are you sure you're ok, Dean?"

Dean closed his eyes but nodded once, swallowing hard. Jenni frowned skeptically as she rose and hurried to the sink. She got a clean dishrag and ran it under the cool water. She returned a moment later and handed it to Dean.

"Here, clean yourself up a bit."

Dean pressed the cool material against his face while trying to get himself under control. He was vaguely aware that Jenni was pulling a chair up beside him and watching him with anxious eyes. He pulled the rag away again, setting it on the table and lifted his coffee mug, taking slow deliberate sips.

"Thanks." He muttered once he was sure he wouldn't stutter over the word.

Jenni nodded and sat back accessing him skeptically. Dean felt like a bug under a microscope, he didn't like it.

"So you were saying?" He pressed.

"I don't think we should talk about this now – I'm sure it's nothing anyway. I've been known for jumping the gun."

Dean frowned and looked into his coffee mug, rubbing his thumbs slowly up and down the warm ceramic.

"You ready to go back to bed? You still look awfully pale, Dean."

Dean shook his head. "It'll probably wake Sammy if we go in there now. The kid needs his rest – he's been wearing himself out the last few days."

"So have you, Dean, besides you need to get off that leg."

Dean again shook his head.

"Why don't you stay in my room tonight then?"

"You need to get some sleep too, Jenni."

"I'm not that tired, Dean."

Dean lifted an eyebrow as he stared at her critically.

Jenni rolled her eyes as she got to her feet and grabbed her book. "Dean, you need some sleep – I don't. It won't hurt you to use my bed." She offered a hand to Dean who refused it, but rather used the table to push himself up to his feet. He stood triumphantly and took one wobbly step forward before his shaking knees buckled. He was save from kissing the floor by Jenni's strong supporting arms.

"Take it easy, Dean." Jenni said softly as she wrapped Dean's uninjured arm around her shoulders and grasped him around the waist.

Dean limped alongside her as Jenni helped him through the kitchen, using the spine of her book to flip off the lights as they passed the switch. The house was thrown into darkness as the two stumbled through the living room and down the hall to the two bedrooms.

Jenni paused when they reached her bedroom, trying to slow down her heavy breathing and give them both a much needed rest. Dean leaned his head against the doorway, holding his injured leg out in front of him in an attempt to ease some of the throbbing pain currently vibrating through his thigh.

"You ready?" Jenni asked as she reached over and flipped the wall switch, giving them a bit more light.

Dean nodded and pursed his lips as they started for the large bed together. He could feel sticky perspiration trickling down his face, his hair was damp with it, and his chest glistened with it. He really wanted to take a shower, he wanted to get cleaned up.

Jenni helped him to the bed, propping him up on a couple pillow before lifting his leg onto another to help elevate it. She gently unwrapped the bandages, checking the stitches and still puffy pink skin.

Dean closed his eyes, concentrating on his breathing. He heard Jenni shuffling about the room, the sound of something heavy was dragged across the floor and then the sound of running water came from the bathroom.

He jumped moments later when something cold was placed on his forehead, his eyes flew open in surprise.

"Shh – just take it easy, Dean." Jenni said quietly as she ran the cool damp cloth on Dean's face, wiping away the sweat that was starting to dry on his tan skin. She moved slowly, and with great care, as she wiped every inch of his face – being even more gentle when she worked with or around his eyes. She paused when she got to his slightly parted lips and looked back to his eyes.

They were closed, his face utterly relaxed. She rubbed a trembling thumb against his soft lips, smiling as the reassuring puff of air hit her skin.

Dean cracked his eyelids and looked at her, his eyebrows raised in question.

Jenni blushed and rose – returning to the bathroom to remoisten her washcloth. She returned and began to wipe down his chest.

He jumped again and arched his back, his eyes widening in shock and surprise. "Holy."

Jenni placed a small hand on Dean's sternum and pressed gently, forcing Dean back against the mattress. She again went to place the cold cloth on his sweaty skin, but found her wrist caught in Dean's hand, stopping her. She lifted her eyes to meet Dean's glassy pain filled ones.

"Don't." Dean croaked.

Jenni set the cloth down onto the bedside table and leaned forward, her eyebrows meeting as she placed a hand on Dean's forehead. "Dean, are you feeling ok?"

Dean closed his eyes and nodded.

"You're running a small fever." Jenni frowned as she touched his cheek with the back of her hand.

"'M ok." Dean muttered.

"I can see that."

Dean didn't answer. Jenni tapped him softly on the shoulder and he opened one eye lazily to look at her.

"Let's get you lying down, Dean, then you can sleep."

Dean allowed her to help him lie down, barely suppressing a groan as his leg protested the movement. Jenni readjusted the injured leg on the pillow and pulled the comforter over Dean's shoulders. Then she left the room, returning a moment later with some Advil and a glass of water.

"Dean, can you swallow these?"

Dean grunted but didn't bother opening his eyes. Jenni cupped a hand under Dean's neck and gently lifted his head off the pillow, pushing the painkillers past his lips and then helping him to swallow them with the aid of the water.

Dean muttered something incoherent and was asleep before Jenni had lowered him back onto the pillows.

Jenni sighed and set the water glass onto the bedside table and picked up her book, settling herself more comfortably in her chair, knowing it was going to be a long night.

***

He woke slowly, feeling sluggish, but had the impression he wasn't alone. He opened his eyes slowly, his long lashes felt as though they had been pasted together.

"Hey, Dean."

Dean relaxed as he heard his brother's soft voice, he closed his eyes again and let his head sink further into the pillow.

Sam placed the back of his hand against Dean's brow, and smiled when Dean opened his eyes again. "Your fever's come down."

"Where 'm I?" Dean didn't recognize the room, couldn't recall coming in here – the previous night was all a blur.

"You're in Jenni's room – she left a note when she left this morning."

"What 'm I doin' here?"

"I don't know – you really don't remember anything, Dean?"

Dean shook his head slowly once but stopped, the movement made him dizzy. "No."

"Jenni's note wasn't very detailed – she just said she's gone down to Dolly's and will be back late and that you were in her bed."

"Time is it?"

"Uh," Sam glanced at his watch then looked back at his brother. "Quarter to one."

"In the afternoon?"

"You needed the sleep, Dean. Are you hungry?"

Dean thought about it for a moment before nodding. "I could eat."

"Stay here – I'll go get something." Sam rose from the chair that Jenni had pulled next to the bed the night before.

Dean watched him through half closed lids until Sam disappeared through the door. He then allowed himself to relax further and really assess himself. He felt cold, despite being covered with heavy blankets and his body felt heavy, he doubted he could move even if he wanted to.

He must have drifted off again because the next thing he was aware of was Sam's soft voice and a warm hand on his shoulder.

"Dean? Are you awake?"

"Hmm?"

"You think you could eat something?"

Dean opened one eye slowly and looked at his brother.

Sam's eyes were red rimmed and blown, worry was flowing from them in waves. Sam's face was drawn, his cheekbones where protruding against his pale skin, his jaw was clenched, and his messy hair was even more tussled looking than usual.

"Dean? You think you can eat?"

Dean nodded once and tried to sit himself up, but his arms were made out of jelly, and wouldn't support even the slightest movement.

Sam set the tray of food he had brought onto the floor and grabbed Dean under the arms, helping him to slide back against the headboard, he propped the pillows up behind him. "You ok?"

"'M fine, Sam." Dean could feel the sweat trickling down his face and he felt breathless.

"Let's get some food into you." Sam wasn't fooled by Dean's bravado, he could see the pasty complexion and the sticky perspiration that dotted Dean's brow. He placed the tray of dry toast and hot tea on Dean's lap.

Dean looked at it with a wrinkled nose.

"Just eat it, Dean."

Dean picked up a slice of toast and took a small bite.

"So," Dean asked giving his brother a sly smirk as he tore at his toast, scattering small brown crumbs about the tray. "I heard you were reading up on your vampire lore."

Sam didn't look abashed, instead he looked simply puzzled. He coked his head to one side and studied his brother thoughtfully. "What?"

Dean's smirk widened. "You read chick books often, Sam?"

"Dean, I don't know what you're…" Sam paused, his eyes widening as something inside of him clicked, it could be the only thing Dean was referring to. "It actually isn't that bad for a book about vampires."

"Come on, Sam."

"I didn't read that much of it, Dean."

"How much is that? Half? How many poor suckers kicked the bucket before you put it down?"

Sam rolled his eyes and shook his head. "It's not like that, Dean – it's," He paused rubbing his thumb along the edge of his chin as he tried to think of something that would fit. "It's different."

"Different?"

"Look, I don't know how to explain it – but they aren't like the real thing, Dean."

"Doesn't surprise me – most people wouldn't know a real vampire until it bit them in the ass."

"Dean," Sam sighed tiredly.

"I'm just saying, Sammy."

"I didn't read that far into it ok? It was just something to do while you were sleeping."

"Why didn't you practice your typing skills?"

Sam's jaw locked and he looked away, toying with a loose strand on the comforter. "I have a hard time seeing the screen, Dean – and it gives me a headache when I've looked at it for more than ten minutes."

All traces of humor drained from Dean's face as though someone had stuck a tube in him. He narrowed his eyes marginally at his brother and clenched his teeth together. "Why didn't you say somethin' earlier, Sam?"

"I don't have to tell you every little thing that bothers me, Dean."

"You always have before."

"Not always."

"Sam, you might have been a stubborn ass about some things – like those freaky visions of yours, but this…" He tapped Sam's wrist with his forefinger gently, drawing Sam's eyes to him. "I already know about, dude, and if something is bothering you, you need to tell me about it."

"You can't help with this, Dean."

"You shouldn't have to feel like you're going through this alone, Sam."

Sam nodded and squinted his eyes, pushing his fingers under the brim of his glasses to rub gently at his eyelids. "I know that – I do, it's just…this is just something I've got to deal with on my own."

"No you don't, Sam."

"Dean, I've just got to figure things out on my own, okay? This is something that you can't save me from – I'm gonna have to face it myself."

Dean frowned as he watched his brother rub at his eyes, his long dark bangs falling over his face and over the tops of his glasses. "You didn't stop reading because you didn't like the story did you, Sam?"

Sam froze, holding his breath. He could feel Dean's penetrating gaze on him and knew he wouldn't be able to bluff his way out of this one. Dean might be in bed with a fever and loaded up on pain medications, but he was in full on big brother mode.

He sighed and dropped his hand to his lap, lifting his eyes to meet Dean's. "No."

"How far did ya get before it got bad, Sam?"

"I don't know – I wasn't really paying attention, it hit me all at once. It was fine one minute and the next it was burning really bad."

"Why didn't you wake me?"

"You wouldn't have woken anyway – you were loaded up on pain meds that are designed to knock you out. Besides you needed the rest, it wasn't anything I couldn't handle."

"And you could?"

"Obviously I did, Dean."

"What'd you do, huh? Stumble around the place until you found your meds?"

"No."

"Well then what? What'd you do to stop it?"

Sam looked away again, toying with the loose strand from the comforter and tugging on it, pulling it loose from the seams.

"Sam?"

"I don't know what happened, Dean."

"You don't know? What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"I mean," Sam looked up, his eyes angry now. "I don't remember because the next thing I can remember is I was on the floor and looking up at the ceiling."

"You passed out?"

"Maybe."

"Sam! This isn't a maybe kinda thing – if the pain is bad enough it's knockin' you out we need to get it checked out."

"I just over worked them, Dean, that's all."

"Yeah and you just happened to work them so hard that it caused your whole body to shut down." Dean's tone was sharp, worried.

"Can we just drop this, Dean? I'm fine."

"You and fine don't even belong in the same dictionary."

"Look who's talking." Sam muttered softly.

"At least have Jenni take a look."

"No."

"Sam."

"I said no, okay?" Sam rose from his seat and nodded to the tray of torn toast and cooling tea. "You done?"

"Yeah."

"Fine, call me if you need anything. I'll be down the hall."

Dean watched his brother walk slowly out of the room, holding the tray very close to his chest and watching his feet, being careful where he put each one. Sam paused in the hall, grabbed the handle to the door, and closed it almost all the way behind him.

Dean leaned back against the pillows, looking up at the ceiling. His hands clenched into fists at his sides, his jaw locked, his teeth clenched, and his eyes hardened. "Damn it."

***

Sam set the breakfast tray in the sink but didn't bother to rinse anything off – he'd take care of it later. He walked back out to the living area and curled up on the couch, cushioning his head with his hands.

He stared blankly ahead at the empty fireplace, at the sad remains of what used to be large steady logs. He let out a shaky breath as he pulled his glasses off his face, dropped them gently on the floor, and turned over so he was facing the couch back. He buried his face into the soft material and scrunched his eyes.

He breathed deeply, slowly, hoping to slow his heartbeat. It had started pounding against his ribcage when Dean had deducted that Sam had passed out. He knew he was stressing out his brother and that made him angry – not at Dean, but at himself for not being able to control himself better.

He had known that he was pushing too hard, his body had given him all the signs but he had ignored them. The burning in his eyes had been the last resort, when he had stood up to get something to help with the pain the world had spun around him, making him dizzy. He had reached to grab for the wall but had missed and the next thing he knew he was on his back, looking at the ceiling and wondering what the hell had happened. He had just been grateful that Dean had slept through the whole thing – if Dean had come out to find Sam unconscious on the floor Sam would bet his bottom dollar that he'd be back in the hospital right now.

He had splashed some cool water on his face, drank a strong cup of coffee, and settled back onto the couch simply looking at the page he assumed he had been on before his collapse, not wanting to read the words, but frustrated that all the lines were wavy and melding together – that was when Jenni had returned.

Luckily for him, Jenni had been too preoccupied with groceries and concerns about Dolly to notice that he wasn't feeling all that well. By the time that Dean had joined them in the kitchen Sam had pulled himself together and was feeling more like himself.

The whole episode had worn him out and he had slept soundly, which was why he had been so surprised when he had woken and found Dean's bed empty. He wasn't as on edge as Dean was, but he still was a light sleeper and could be woken by the softest footfall, it had been drilled into them for as long as he could remember – never let your guard down.

Sam knew that was one of the main reasons why Dean slept with a Bowie under his pillow – 'precaution' he had called it, but Sam knew better. Dean hadn't always slept with a knife under his pillow, but it had almost cost them both one night when John had pissed off the wrong people and Dean couldn't get to his .45 fast enough.

Unconsciously, Sam's fingers trailed over a small scar on his collarbone. It had faded with the years, and was now as tan as the rest of his skin, but Sam knew right where to look if he wanted to. The knife wound had been deep – the stitches difficult, he remembered the way Dean had kept his game face on while his hands trembled with the effort of stitching Sam's shoulder together. Beads of sweat had trickled off his chin and neck, soaking into the collar of his shirt.

Two more days had passed before John had returned, but when he did, Sam was still in bed with a fever and Dean had been running around trying to do everything he could think of to bring it down. John hadn't spoken as he had scooped Sam up in his arms, blankets and all, and carried him to the impala. Dean had beaten them out there and had the back door open by the time John got there, he had helped lower Sam inside before running around and joining him in the back, rather than taking his usual spot in the passenger seat.

Sam could still remember Dean's cool hands on his face, holding Sam's head in his lap as John drove to the closest hospital. Dean's soft voice had been a low hum, barely surfacing through Sam's foggy mind and the steady beat that was thrumming from the speakers as it played whatever tape John had pushed into the cassette deck.

He remembered Dean at the hospital, but John had taken off, returning a couple days later, his clothes dirty, his face drawn, and his eyes hard. After that he had stuck right next to both of them, and after Sam had been released he had drilled it into both of their minds that they couldn't let themselves be caught off guard like that again.

Sam had seen the guilt rising with the color in Dean's cheeks, could see his brother hiding behind the soldier that came out whenever John was around. It had made him angry, it was as much his fault as it was Dean's, but Dean was the one taking the brunt of the blame as always.

A few days later, when Sam had been released, he had watched from the window of their motel room as Dean walked to the trunk of the jet black Chevy. He had pulled out a Bowie, tested the edge with his thumb and stuck it in the waistband of his pants, pulling his shirt carefully over it and made his way back to the motel room. John had packed them up later that night and they had been across the country within a week, but that knife was constantly there with Dean, even when he was sleeping, Sam had watched him slip it under his pillow, holding it tightly in his fist, his body perfectly taut and ready for the slightest odd noise.

Dean didn't carry the bulky Bowie with him now, he kept his .45 on him at all times, but Sam knew that Dean kept a small knife hidden in his boot, tucked tightly against his ankle. Dean was never one to be caught unprepared again, if he didn't have at least his gun on him he felt naked.

Sam rolled onto his back and stared up at the ceiling, blinking heavily, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He bet that if he went in and checked Dean's bed, the Bowie would be there, hidden under folds of sheets.

"Sam!"

Sam sighed, closed his eyes briefly then rolled off the couch and to his feet. He knew that if he didn't answer then Dean would just keep calling, or get panicky and do something stupid like come looking for him.

"Sam!" Dean's voice was on the verge of sounding angry as Sam stared down the short hall to the bedrooms.

"What?" Sam snapped back rubbing his fingers against his temple, remembering his glasses on the floor in the living room, then pushed the thought aside again. He wasn't going to go back there to get them unless he absolutely had to.

He entered the bedroom, leaning against the door and staring at the fuzzy outline of his brother across the room.

"She didn't take the car did she?"

Sam ground his jaw and resisted the urge to punch something. "No, Dean, she walked. She knew you'd have a fit if you had the impala."

Dean's bottom lip pushed out in a pout. "Would not."

"You're doing it now, Dean, and she didn't even take it." Sam pointed out.

"Whatever – what time did she say she'd be back?"

Sam shrugged. "The note just said it'd be late. Why?"

"I don't know – it might be nothin' but somethin' she said to me…"

"What?" Sam pushed away from the door and made his way over to the bed, sitting down on the edge. "What'd she say, Dean?"

"I don't know really, it's just strange." Dean wrapped his arms around himself, shrugging his shoulders in the same movement.

"What?"

"She asked me if – ah, hell, something's wrong, Sammy."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know, last night, when Jenni and I were talking she said she felt like somethin' was gonna happen – something she couldn't control."

Sam shook his head once. "Like what, Dean?"

"It was like what I felt at the hospital, Sam." Dean's voice was soft, lower than a whisper. Sam felt his insides clench.

_Except this pit in my stomach. Sam, something's wrong._

Not ten minutes after Dean had said that Sam had returned with the cup of coffee John had asked for to find his father's lifeless body on the floor, blood soaking into his shirt.

"You sure?"

Dean nodded and looked up to meet Sam's eyes. "We can't let her walk home, Sam."

"Neither of us are in the best condition to drive, Dean."

"You'll have to do it – I can't drive with my leg."

"Dean, you barely let me drive under the best of circumstances." Sam protested.

"Sam, please, just bring her back."

"I'd have to go now – while the light is still good."

"That's fine, just go."

"I'll bring her back, Dean, I promise." Sam rose from the bed, waited for Dean's confirming nod, then walked out of the bedroom as fast as his legs would let him.

***

"I can't believe he sent you to pick me up, Sam." Jenni thundered for what had to be the hundredth time, she stormed from the front door and down to the bedrooms, ready to really let Dean have it.

Sam sighed quietly and closed the door behind him, then followed the raging nurse. He had been lucky, not at all sure which house was Dolly's when he had headed down to pick up Jenni, but had seen her outside, talking to a police officer.

He had laid low, waiting for her to finish. He knew that she had seen him, and half an hour later she had come storming up to the impala, her purse slung over her shoulder and her face a strange shade of violet. Sam would have smiled at the fact that he recognized the color, but he doubted Jenni would appreciate it.

She had insisted on driving, something he should not haven given into. Unfortunately, his already compromised vision was waning, so he'd handed over the keys without arguing. He was sure that Dean would bitch about that later.

In her anger, Jenni had been anything but careful behind the wheel. Sam winced, remembering the large pothole that had made the whole impala dip and screech as her undercarriage hit the asphalt. Dean was definitely going to feel the need to improve Sam's face after he found out.

He ran a hand through his messy hair and started down the hall, ready to come to his brother's defense, but was surprised when he saw Jenni pulling her bedroom door closed quietly. Anxiety was written all over her face when she looked up to meet his eyes.

"Jenni?"

"Not here," Jenni said pointedly as she headed for the kitchen.

Sam was ready to burst into the room to see what was going on – fearing the worst. Maybe the harpy had come for Dean while he'd been gone? He placed a large hand on the doorknob, but stopped when Jenni placed a hand on his forearm, and squeezed gently.

"He's sleeping, Sam."

Sam blinked at her, his mouth slightly agape as his fingers continued to curl around the knob.

"His fever is back, he needs to rest."

Worry instantly creased in Sam's brow and he fought the urge to barge in, Jenni be damned, to check his brother himself. He waited until Jenni disappeared into the kitchen, just out of eyeshot, then pushed the door open.

The room was still fairly light from the late afternoon sun, but Sam could barely see the lump that was his brother. He was nothing more than a mound of blankets, although whether Jenni had covered him up or Dean had buried himself in them Sam wasn't sure. He felt a slight twinge of panic as he heard a slight wheezing sound coming from the direction of the bed, he inched forward, creeping in on silent feet. As he got closer to the bed the wheezy gasps got louder, Sam could hear every struggled intake for air as Dean breathed. He pushed the blankets away from Dean's shoulders and down to his waist, then rested his hand on Dean's chest.

Dean's chest rose and fell easily, giving no indication that he was having trouble breathing, but Sam could still hear the laborious pull. Dean's lungs were having to work extra hard to drag in the oxygen needed to fill them. His eyes trailed to Dean's face, a frown tugged at his mouth as he examined the distressed look on his brother's tanned face. Dean's brow was dotted with perspiration, his eyebrows were knotted together, lines creased around the corners of his eyes, his mouth was slightly open and with each exhale he let out a little wheeze. The freckles across the bridge of Dean's nose stood out in contrast with Dean's skin, something that Sam only really noticed when Dean was too sick to hide it.

He placed a hand on Dean's forehead, his frown deepening as he felt the heat radiating from his brother's skin. Dean leaned into the touch, taking comfort in Sam's cool skin. His mouth opened and closed a few times, and his throat convulsed as he struggled to swallow.

"Dean?" Sam tried, although he knew there wasn't a point. It was clear that Dean was out of it, and wouldn't be coming back to the waking world until his body beat the fever.

"Give him these – they'll help."

Sam jumped, he hadn't heard Jenni return. He berated himself for that – dad would've had his ass.

_Always be on your guard, be aware of your surroundings at all times. It'll save your life someday._

Sam smirked at the irony – when didn't John's orders save their lives? It was on a daily basis. He accepted the pain pills and water glass that Jenni was holding out to him. She left him to it, keeping the door open.

Sam sat on the edge of bed, swallowing hard as he looked at the two small pills in his palm. He couldn't tell which kind of painkillers Jenni had given him, his vision was starting to blur from the added stress of driving the impala, and a headache had started right behind his eyes. He blinked slowly and rubbed his thumb against the pills, then turned to his brother, chewing on his lip doubtfully.

He set the water glass down on the floor next to his feet and cupped the hand not holding the pills under Dean's neck.

Dean's wheezy breathing seemed to grow louder as his head was lifted off the pillow, making Sam's body tremble in alarm. He was barely able to keep his hold on his brother, but somehow managed to keep Dean upright and to get the pills into Dean's mouth.

Dean's lips pursed and he acquired a sour look as the pills hit his tongue. Sam knew, conscious or not, Dean was close to spitting them out. He grabbed the water glass and held it to Dean's mouth, tipping it slightly.

Water ran around the edges of Dean's mouth and off his chin, but his lips parted. Sam poured slowly and steadily, not wanting to make Dean choke. The water pooled in Dean's mouth, building as he refused to swallow.

"Come on, Dean." Sam muttered, pulling the cup away. "Swallow it, come on." He encouraged his brother to swallow by rubbing his throat gently.

Dean tried to get away from the odd sensation, but Sam held him firm and continued to rub. Dean's throat convulsed slightly with the first swallow, but he didn't have a problem with the next few it required to swallow the pool building in his mouth. Sam lifted the cup again, helping Dean to finish off the cup.

Dean stirred slightly, his eyebrows pulling together and his eyelids lifting slightly. Sam looked into the glassy jade eyes and smiled. "Hey, Dean."

"Get her?"

"Yeah she's here."

"Good." Dean's eyes closed again and he was asleep within seconds. Sam put the back of his hand against his brother's brow one more time, frowned then rose from the bed. He'd be back in to check on Dean in a little while. Right now he'd let him rest.

He left the room quietly, closing the door behind him. He could hear Jenni in the kitchen, from the sounds of it moving pots and pans around. Sam padded down the hall quietly, being cautious, knowing that she still wasn't in that great a mood. The only reason she hadn't blown up at Dean was because his fever was back and he was unconscious. Sam wasn't sure if he felt that Dean or Jenni had gotten off easier.

Dean was never one to just sit around and take a mauling, verbal or physical, without dishing some back. Jenni was not in her league with Dean, but Sam knew better than to try and stop her. That would be asking for trouble.

He entered the kitchen, placing the cup Jenni had brought into the bedroom into the sink.

"He still sleeping?"

"Yeah," Sam turned his back to the sink, running a hand through his messy hair.

Jenni was standing in front of the fridge, the freezer door open. "You have dinner?"

"No, Dean hadn't been awake that long when he sent me to get you."

Jenni nodded and pulled out the bag of frozen chicken thighs. She made a face then put them back inside the freezer and shut the door. She opened the fridge instead and pulled out the roast she had set in there to help it thaw. She set the package onto the counter and reached into one of the cabinets, pulling out a sorry looking crock pot.

"What the hell is going on with him, Jenni? What's with the fever?" Sam scowled at the floor while Jenni straightened up with the crock pot and put it on the counter.

"It could be a couple things, Sam. Could be an infection, he could have busted some stitches we haven't seen, blood loss, stress, any of those could account for it." Jenni filled a glass measuring cup with water and poured it into the pot then plugged the cord into the socket. She reached into the spice cabinet and extracted a couple items wrapped in gold foil that Sam didn't recognize. She dropped both of them into the pot and added a few basil leaves, then stirred the contents around with wooden spoon. "But, honestly, I think he's gotten the fever because he's been overdoing it. Once he gets some rest the fever should go away."

Sam watched as Jenni ripped open the plastic covering and transferred the heavy roast to the crock pot. A few drops of blood splattered the counter but Jenni ignored those as she dropped the meat's plastic container into the garbage and headed for the sink to wash her hands.

"Pot roast ok?"

"Anything's fine, Jenni." Sam doubted it would matter. He wasn't hungry anyway.

Jenni glanced over her shoulder at him as she shut off the tap and shook the excess water droplets from her hands. "He'll be fine, Sam, once he gets some rest. The fever isn't high enough to worry – yet."

"Yet." Sam grimaced. He headed for the closest chair he could find and sank into it, drumming his fingers against the tabletop.

Jenni was pulling potatoes out of a small brown bag and was setting them by the sink to be washed.

"Dinner won't be ready for a while, a few hours at least."

"That's fine."

"You should go get some rest, Sam, you aren't looking that great yourself."

Sam frowned and stared at the floor, his fingers continuing their drumming. He wasn't about to admit that he didn't feel all that great either. His head hurt, his stomach hurt, and his eyes were beginning to burn. He really wanted to go sleep for a while, but he didn't want to leave Dean alone. Dean hated being alone – especially while he was sick.

"Sam?"

"Yeah – you're probably right." Sam agreed standing up and leaning heavily on the table for a moment.

Jenni wasn't looking at him anymore, she was counting the potatoes silently, mentally calculating and tapping a forefinger against her palm.

"Jenni?"

"Yeah, Sam?" Jenni grabbed a couple more potatoes then slid the potato bag back into it's place. She flipped the tap onto cold and started scrubbing the potatoes.

"You don't think it's an infection do you?"

Jenni shook her head, not looking up from what she was doing. "Sam, I honestly don't think it's an infection – like I said I think Dean's just overdone it. He's been up and about a lot lately, that was bound to take it's toll on him. His body is still trying to recover from the attack. The wounds were serious, whether Dean's willing to acknowledge that or not, the fever is just a reaction to all the moving around. When he gets some rest the fever should die down. Get me the lettuce head and onion in the fridge will ya?"

Sam opened the fridge, easily finding both items in the crisper. He wrinkled his nose at the smell of the fresh onion – it was even stronger than it was after Dean had had extra onions on his hamburger.

"You don't like onions?" Jenni had stopped scrubbing the potatoes and was drying her hands on a paper towel, she hadn't missed the wrinkled nose.

Sam offered her a small grin. "I don't mind them – Dean loves them, I have to ride in the car with him after he eats them."

Jenni laughed as she tossed the paper towel onto the counter. "I can see how that would put you off."

"Onions don't really agree with him, I have to keep the window rolled down."

Jenni laughed again. "Bet he loves that. We'll just make sure his salad is onion free."

Sam chuckled. "Good luck, he can smell onions a mile away." Sam yawned, and stretched out his back muscles. He glanced at his watch then back at the crock pot. "What time is dinner gonna be ready?"

Jenni checked the clock over the stove. "Probably around eight or so. That gives you a few hours to get some rest, Sam."

Sam blinked slowly at her, his mouth pulling down in a frown. "I don't…"

"Sam, I'm not trying to tell you to do it – heaven knows you don't have to, but you should." Jenni said lightly.

Sam hated to admit it but he was tired, he was finding it harder than ever to focus his vision.

"I'll check on Dean periodically if you want, but I think you've strained your eyes enough for one day. Driving the car wasn't the best idea, that's bound to have it's setbacks."

Sam nodded and started slowly from the kitchen. He wasn't about to argue – why push something when it was already limited?

As he headed down the hall he paused, hand on the door to the brothers' shared bedroom, looking back at Jenni's room, debating. He glanced quickly over his shoulder then went into Jenni's bedroom, not bothering to turn on the light as he headed for the bed.

Dean's breathing was still wheezy, the sound put Sam on edge, making him uneasy. Something was off – even when Dean had been sick before he had never had to strain so hard for air. Sam padded along the floor on the balls of his feet, chewing on his lip.

He sat on the small chair next to the bed and leaned forward, placing the back of his hand on Dean's brow. It was slick with sweat and still too warm for Sam's liking.

Dean blinked awake at the contact, his eyelids opened part way, and his eyes slide over to his brother.

"Hey," Sam said softly giving his brother a half smile.

"'S called personal space, dude."

Sam laughed and pulled his hand back, but didn't sit back in the chair. His eyes quickly skimmed over Dean's face, not satisfied with how pale Dean looked, even in the fading evening light.

"Do I pass inspection?"

"The jury is still out on that one."

Dean lifted an eyebrow and pursed his lips.

"What?"

"Nothin', gonna say you look like crap."

"Look who's talkin'."

Dean took in a deep shuddering breath, his lungs still wheezing with the effort.

"Are you feelin' ok, Dean?"

"Freakin' peachy."

"You know what I mean."

"I'm fine, Sam."

"Yeah – I bet."

"What do you want me to say?"

"I want you to be honest for once."

"Honesty? Ok," Dean paused taking in a deep breath. He let it out slowly, looked Sam in the eye, and said with a sly smirk. "I'm fine, Sam."

"Dean," Sam groaned.

"You expect me to be up doing a jiggy dance? Kinda hard to do with this leg, dude." He began as he pushed aside the blankets.

"Whoa, whoa, where do you think you're going?"

Dean lifted an eyebrow incredulously. "To the can – I think I can manage that. I've been able to go to the bathroom on my own before you were born, I don't need you to hold my hand, Samantha."

Sam frowned but moved aside as Dean got gingerly to his feet, tested his weight on his injured leg, then began limping to the bathroom. The door closed with a little more force than necessary, making it rattle on it's hinges for a moment, Sam hovered by the door, anxiously shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

"Sam, I promise if I fall in I'll call you, you don't need to hover by the door."

Sam's eyes widened in surprise. "How'd you know I was by the door?"

"Where else would you be, your freakin' mother henning me."

Sam huffed and walked back to the bed, sitting on the corner closest to the bathroom, ready to spring up if he was needed.

It wasn't necessary, Dean emerged a few minutes later, and although his skin had taken on a green tone he was still walking under his own steam. Dean settled back onto the bed, Sam jumped up and propped the pillows up behind his back. Dean leaned against them, his eyes closed, breathing slowly through his nose.

"Can I get you something?"

Dean opened his eyes and shook his head slowly. "Nah, I'm good."

"You hungry? Jenni's fixing dinner but it won't be ready for a few hours."

Dean's eyes sparked with the mention of food. "You got her back ok then?"

"Course, she isn't happy with you though." Sam didn't see the point in reminding Dean that he had already told him this. He knew Dean had been really out of it when he told him the first time.

"Figured she wouldn't be." Dean sighed.

"Yeah, well, you figured right."

"She's alive, that's what's important."

Sam's eyebrows narrowed in confusion. "You didn't think she would be?"

"I don't know, Sam." Dean's eyes were closed again.

"Dean, you must've had some reason to think that she wouldn't be."

"It's nothin', Sam, forget it."

"Fine, so you hungry – or you want to wait for dinner?"

"We gotta pack a cards somewhere don't we, Sammy?"

"Uh, yeah, in your duffel."

"Bet I could whip your ass at poker."

"I bet you could."

"Bet you a week's worth of tunes."

"Anything I wanted?"

"Anything – it's up for grabs."

"You're on." Sam rose from the bed and hurried to the bedroom to grab the deck. He was back in record time, using his thumb to fan the cards.

Dean smirked and sat up a little straighter, hiding the grimace of pain as he adjusted himself to a good playing position.

Sam sat in front of his brother and began shuffling the cards.

"So what are you gonna give me when I win?" Dean teased.

Sam's chest vibrated with a low growl. "Not gonna happen, Dean. You're off your game, big brother."

"Am not – I can still kick your ass."

"I'd like to see that." Sam began dealing the cards.

"So, what are we bettin'? Tune privileges for what?"

"If you win – I'll buy all the food for the next two weeks."

"Fair enough – none of that rabbit food though."

"Whatever you want."

"Awesome." Dean flipped up his hand and pulled the corners of his mouth down in a frown.

Sam studied his sibling, knowing all too well that Dean was a master at keeping his game face on. He wasn't going to be fooled.

"Give me two." Dean slapped two cards down by the deck.

Sam drew two new cards and handed them to his brother, taking three cards for himself.

"Hope your wallet's full, dude." Dean grinned dropping his hand to reveal three kings and two queens.

Sam groaned and dropped his own useless pile onto Dean's he had only had a pair of eights. He began dealing the next hand. "How many hands we playing before we decide who wins?"

"We're gonna keep track?"

"It would defeat the purpose if we didn't wouldn't it?"

"How about the one who wins the most before dinner is ready?"

"Dean, that's not gonna be for hours, you don't really wanna…" He trailed off as he saw the corner of Dean's mouth twitch. "You are so going down."

"Bring it on, Sammy."

***

It was quarter after eight before Sam finally emerged from the bedroom, shaking his head and slumping his shoulders as he headed for the kitchen. Dean had whipped him, just as he had predicted – he was going to have to figure out where he could get his hands on enough cash to buy enough food to satisfy his brother for two weeks.

Dean had been able to bluff his way through several hands where Sam could have won, but he hadn't wanted to take the chances, and he was paying for that now. He smirked a little as he thought about the past few hours, Dean was very good at what he did, it was no wonder people often accused him of cheating. Dean came off as someone who didn't know jack squat about poker, but he was an expert player, knowing the best times to take chances and when to bluff his way through.

Dean had taken on a tired look as the cabin filled with the smells of cooking meat and bubbling fat. He had managed to kick Sam's ass in one more round before he had called it – Sam didn't even want to remember the score. His wins were outweighed by far with Dean's wins.

He entered the kitchen, looking to see if dinner was ready yet. Dean had started complaining of hunger pains, and Sam was willing to do anything to get Dean to shut up about it.

"Hey, Sam, you guys have fun?" Jenni asked as she pulled the last of the baked potatoes out of the oven. True to her word, Jenni had come in to check on Dean, and had been mildly surprised when she had seen both brothers sitting up and playing with a deck of cards. She had left them to it, and had returned to the living area with her book.

"If you can call it that."

"Dean kicked your ass huh?"

"That's putting it mildly – I owe him food for the next two weeks."

Jenni laughed and dug a knife and fork out of the cutlery drawer. She began cutting the tops off the baked potatoes and scooping the insides out into a large metal bowl, setting the empty shells onto a cookie sheet.

"Do me a favor and get the sharp cheese and milk from the fridge will ya?"

"Sure." Sam retrieved the requested items and set them onto the counter beside Jenni.

"You want to grate the cheese? The more help I get the faster dinner will be done. Grater is in the cupboard next to the sink."

Sam pulled the grater from it's spot and took the cheese out of it's plastic bag. "How much did you want?"

"Grate half of what we have left." Jenni frowned as she cut open another potato. The butter knife slipped and sliced into the soft shell. "Damn it."

Sam began to grate the cheese, working the block slowly up and down. "You putting this in the potatoes?"

"I'm making potatoes on the half shell." Jenni explained distractedly as she opened the last potato and dumped the contents into the bowl. She started searching through the cabinets, trying to find her electric mixer. She found it hidden in behind the stovetop pans.

Sam shook the cheese grater and ran his fingers along the inside to make sure that none of the cheese had stuck to it. "Anything else?"

"Grab a tray for Dean. We'll take him something, I'm sure he's hungry."

"Course, when isn't he?" Sam joked, earning him a light swat on the arm as he passed the petite nurse.

Jenni scooped most of the grated cheese into her palms and dumped it into the bowl, plugged in the electric mixer, and beat the contents together. The mixture immediately turned a bright orange as the cheese melted against the hot potatoes. She twisted the cap on the milk jug and poured enough milk in to help the potatoes get fluffy.

Sam grabbed the ice tray from the freezer and began to beat it against the basin of the sink. A few cubes popped loose, he grabbed them before they could fall into the basin or down the drain and dropped them into a tall glass, which he filled with water.

Jenni turned the mixer off and began to scoop the fluffy orange potatoes back into the shells, filling each one until the shells looked ready to split. When each one was full she topped them off with some of the leftover grated cheese and stuck them back into the oven.

"What are you gonna do with the rest of that?" Sam nodded to the bowl that still had plenty of potato mixture in it.

"Grandma used to call this leftover potato filling." Jenni joked, pulling a small flat dish from the cupboard and spooning the last of the mixture into it. She spread the last of the cheese over it and stuck it in the oven beside the cookie sheet. "There, those should be ready in ten minutes – so dinner will be ready then."

Sam sat at the table, drumming his fingers against the surface as Jenni rinsed out the bowl and scrubbed the cheese grater.

"Something bothering you, Sam?"

"Hmm? No, why?"

"You just seem kinda edgy is all." Jenni wiped her hands on her jeans and joined Sam at the table, leaning back against her chair and letting out a tired sigh.

"Jenni, are you going back to Dolly's tomorrow?"

"Yes, actually, I was planning on heading back first thing in the morning. Why?"

Sam frowned chewing on his bottom lips thoughtfully. "Nothin', I guess. It's just somethin' Dean said earlier."

"What did he say?"

"It's not important – I'm sure it's nothin'."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure."

"Is that the reason you came to get me, Sam? Because Dean said something?"

"He asked me to, so I did. End of story."

It was Jenni's turn to frown. "This doesn't have anything to do with what I told him last night does it?"

"I think it does – he mentioned it."

"Huh, that's strange."

"What is?"

"This morning when I left for Dolly's the feeling was gone – must've been a fluke or something."

"Maybe, doesn't hurt to be careful though."

"No, you're right. Dean didn't seem too concerned about it last night, but he must be good at keeping a straight face."

"You haven't seen him play poker."

Jenni laughed. "So what are you gonna do about the bet?"

"Honestly? I have no idea – I'll have to rustle up some money somewhere."

"Does helping in the kitchen count as your two weeks?"

"I doubt it. Dean's idea of food is a burger dripping with enough grease to soak ten paper take out bags."

"Is that all you guys eat?"

"That's all he usually eats. We can't really afford to go out to nice places all that often."

"Hmm," Jenni didn't have more of an answer to that, because the timer on the stove went off and she hurried over to pull the potatoes from the oven.

The cheese had melted over the edges of the potato skins, and made large orange puddles around each potato, each one bubbling from the heat.

Jenni grabbed a pancake turner and slid it under one of the potatoes and slid it onto a plate. She then took the plate to the crock pot, lifted the glass lid and breathed in deeply as the rich smell filled the kitchen. She grabbed an extra long fork, stabbed it right into the middle of the meat and lifted it quickly and carefully onto a prepared dish, then pulled the plug from the outlet.

Sam's stomach growled loudly at the appetizing smells that were filling the kitchen. He watched as Jenni pulled a bit of stringy meat from the roast and set it on the plate, then added some of the salad she had made earlier to the plate and set it on the tray for Dean.

"You wanna eat in here or in the bedroom with Dean?"

"Uh," Sam began.

"In the bedroom would probably be better, just in case." Jenni answered for him, pulling another plate from the cupboard and began loading it with the pot roast, potatoes, and salad. She easily balanced both dishes on the tray and eyed Dean's water glass.

"You want somethin' to drink, Sam? Grab whatever you want." Jenni left the kitchen, loaded tray in her hands.

Sam stared at her for a moment, then walked to the fridge and grabbed a beer. He popped the top and tossed it in the general direction of the garbage can before heading out of the kitchen.

He could hear Jenni and Dean as he entered the hall and suppressed a smile, it sounded like Dean was teasing her and Jenni was ready to smack him.

"No, Dean, you don't get both – one is for your brother."

"So why are you handing both to me?"

"Dean, don't be an ass."

"I'm just sayin', Jenni."

"Well, don't. Sam's on his way and he's hungry too."

"Well, he better hurry his ass up or this is gonna be gone."

"Dean, don't do that. That's your brother's."

Dean said something that sounded muffled, Sam had no doubt in his mind that Dean had his mouth stuffed full of the food that had been brought to him.

Sam entered the bedroom, swinging his beer bottle down by his hip. Dean was scooping the potatoes out of the potato shell, and Jenni was saving Sam's plate from Dean's reach.

"Sam!" Dean exclaimed as soon as he saw his brother, swallowing the bulging mouthful and grinning at him. "You've gotta try these potatoes, dude."

Sam accepted the plate Jenni held out to him with a silent smile and sat on the bedside chair, propping his legs up onto the edge of the bed, and setting his plate on his lap and his beer on the floor. Jenni left the brothers alone and headed back to the kitchen to eat her own dinner.

Sam dug his fork into the bubbling potato and scooped up a forkful of the whipped potatoes and melted cheese. Dean was busy tearing the shell apart and was scraping his fork along the edge, trying to get as much out his potato as he could.

Sam had to admit that he'd never had anything like these, and they were pleasantly enjoyable. He helped himself to another forkful while Dean, who had finally decided that there was nothing left but a tired old potato shell, had started in on his pot roast and garden salad.

They ate in silence, Sam staring at his plate while Dean toyed with the stringy meat on his.

"Hey, Sam?" Dean finally broke the silence, he was stirring around the limp green leaves of his salad.

"Hmm?" Sam asked distracted as he looked up at his brother.

"Is she going back? To Dolly's I mean?"

"She said she was, I expect the viewing is coming up in the next couple days – there is still a lot to do."

"They're really gonna have a viewing?" Dean blanched dropping his fork and staring at his brother in shock.

Sam shrugged. "I don't know – they might."

"Sam, did you see that body? He wasn't in the best of shape after that harpy attack."

"His face wasn't that damaged, Dean. I'm sure that they stitched him up – it's not like he'll be naked."

"I guess," Dean didn't look convinced and slowly picked up his fork, tapping it against the edge of his plate.

Sam forked his pot roast and lifted it to his mouth, chewing slowly on the soft juicy meat as he watched his brother. His brows pulled together as Dean ignored the rest of his dinner, instead merely toying with it. That was anything but _Dean like_ behavior. He swallowed and leaned down to pick up his beer, taking a sip – glanced over to the open door then offered the bottle to his brother.

"Thanks," Dean muttered accepting the bottle and taking a quick sip before handing it back. Sam set it back on the floor and shoved the tips of his fork through his salad greens, and lifted them to his mouth.

"You still have that feeling, Dean?"

"What? No – at least, I don't think so." Dean was looking uncomfortable, shifting slightly on the bed.

"Then what is it?"

"I don't know, Sam, somethin' just feels off is all."

Sam drew his lips into his mouth, tightening them into a hard line. He had learned to trust Dean's judgment in these kind of things, just as Dean had learned to trust his. If Dean said something felt off something was off.

"Like what?" Sam finally asked after several minutes of tense silence.

"I don't know – it just seems strange that we'd get that feeling last night but nothing happened, don't you think?"

"I guess."

Dean glared at him and his own lips tightened slightly.

"Maybe it's nothin', Dean. Or maybe because I picked Jenni up nothin' happened to her. I'm sure there was a reason you had that feeling, I don't doubt that, but maybe we avoided whatever it was supposed to be this time?"

"Maybe," Dean didn't look convinced as he picked up the last of his pot roast and put it into his mouth. He pushed his plate away, Sam noted that the salad, other than being stirred around, was untouched.

"You want some more?" Sam asked as he finished the last of his salad, and had to admit that Jenni made a good garden salad, even if it did have onions.

"No, I'm good."

"You feelin' ok?" Sam asked, his eyes narrowing automatically in concern.

"I'm fine, Sammy."

Sam leaned over to put his hand on Dean's forehead to check his fever, but Dean batted his hand away.

"How's the pain?"

"It's fine."

"We should change the dressings."

"In the morning."

"Dean," Sam began but stopped when he took a good look at his brother.

Dean looked tired, dark bags hung under his eyes, his face looked flushed, the freckles against his cheeks and nose stood out against his pale skin. His usually spiked but disarrayed hair was flat against his head, except in the back where it was still mussed from sleep. He was sitting in a slouched over position, his shoulders slumped, his hands were resting on his lap, utterly relaxed. Sam frowned as Dean tipped his head back so it rested on to the top of the pillows, angling his head so it was tilted towards the ceiling.

"You should get some sleep." Sam finally said setting his plate on the floor and lifting the tray and dinner plate from Dean's legs, setting them on the floor as well.

Dean didn't wait for Sam to help him to lie down. He grabbed one of the pillows he was propped up against and slid down the bed, hissing as his leg throbbed.

Sam frowned at his stubborn sibling as he grabbed the extra pillow and set it on the other side of Dean. "Dean, are you sure you're…"

"Sam, you finish that sentence and I swear to God…" Dean trailed off, not bothering to open his eyes.

Sam couldn't help it, he laughed softly and bent down to pick up their dinner dishes and his beer bottle. He left his brother to sleep and walked slowly down the hall, trying hard not to drop the tray as he could hardly see where he was going.

He was rather pleased with himself when he managed to get into the kitchen with his loaded tray and set it by the sink.

Jenni looked up from her book, then quickly dropped it onto the table. The binding was worn from having been read so many times that it easily held her place. "Oh, Sam, why didn't you let me know you guys were done?"

"It's fine, Jenni, I've got it." Sam insisted scraping Dean's untouched salad into the basin.

"I'll clean up, Sam, just leave them by the sink." Jenni said as she pulled the aluminum foil from the draw and dropped the pot roast on it. She did the same with the potatoes and stuck both in the fridge.

"I don't mind," Sam said as he rinsed the plate under the warm water.

He felt a soft hand on his arm and glanced down at it for a moment before lift his eyes to meet Jenni's.

"Sam, you should go get some sleep. I can take care of things in here."

Sam hesitated, but under Jenni's unrelenting eyes he finally handed over the dish and nodded slightly to her. Jenni smiled and used one hand to move all the lettuce leaves and vegetables down the drain then plugged it up with the stopper and let the sink start to fill up with the warm water, squirting some dishwashing soap into it.

"How early were you gonna head out tomorrow?"

"Around seven or so, we still have a lot to do." Jenni didn't look up from the rapidly filling sink.

"Night, Jenni."

"Night, Sam."

Sam looked into Jenni's bedroom once more to check on Dean. Dean was out cold, lying on his side with his back to the door. His breathing was deep and even, the wheezing from before had finally stopped. Sam let out a silent sigh of relief and headed for his own bedroom, closing the door behind him.

As he sprawled out on the bed he could hear Jenni working in the kitchen, the clatter of plates as they fell into the basin, the swishing of the water, and the soft soprano tone as Jenni hummed quietly to herself. He found the sounds oddly comforting, and it wasn't long before they lulled him into a deep sleep.

***

He was woken by a large hand on his shoulder, and someone's ragged breathing by his left ear. He frowned, and tried to roll away, but the hand was insistent and shook him roughly.

"Sammy, wake up."

Sam's eyes popped open and he blinked furiously, trying to bring the room into focus – getting slightly panicky when it remained dark.

"Sam!"

"What?" Sam grumbled lifting a hand to rub at his eyes, hoping that would help clear his vision.

"You've gotta go get, Jenni."

"What?" Sam's eyes slowly drifted to the alarm clock and lifted when he saw it was only quarter to six. No wonder it was still dark, it wasn't his eyes, the sun hadn't come up yet and Dean hadn't turned the light on.

"What the hell are you doin' in here?" Sam demanded sitting up in the bed and grabbing Dean's arms, he could feel the muscles in his brother's body trembling as Dean struggled to keep himself upright.

"Sam, please." Dean's voice sounded weak and strained. At that exact moment his knees buckled and he fell to the floor in a heap.

"Dean!" Sam was out of the bed and next to his brother's side in seconds, gently sliding his hands under Dean's armpits and helping Dean onto the bed he had just been occupying.

Dean's whole body was trembling, his breathing still ragged, but his eyes were wide and wild. Sam could see that even in the dim light from the moon.

Sam placed a hand on Dean's forehead, concerned when Dean didn't push him away. "Damn it, Dean, your fever is back. What the hell were you thinking?"

"Sam," Dean gasped grabbing at Sam's arms and pulling himself up slightly, Sam pushed him back against the mattress again, a little roughly this time.

"Stay there." Sam ordered, he tried to hurry through the bedroom, but found it hard to do in the dark. He managed to stub his toe and run into the door on the way out. He cursed both times and finally found the light switch. He flipped it on as he left the room and hurried down the hall to the kitchen to get some pain killers and water.

By the time he returned Dean was struggling to get out of bed, and was halfway there. His legs were hanging over the edge, but his elbows were resting on his knees and his head was hanging low. His breathing had picked up a notch, blowing it into hyperventilation.

"Dean!" Sam hurried to his brother's side, lifting his brother's legs back onto the bed, and pulling the covers over him. "I told you to stay here, damn it."

"Sam," Dean's glassy eyes trailed to Sam's. "You've gotta go get Jenni."

"What are you talkin' about?"

"She left early – Dolly called, said she thought she heard a prowler. Didn't take the car – Sam, go get her."

"Dean, you're sick – I'm sure you just had a…"

"No, she left a note on the bed." Dean held a crumpled piece of paper in his hand.

Sam took it and read through it quickly, he frowned as a sinking feeling made his stomach drop.

_Dean and Sam,___

_Dolly called – thought she heard a prowler. Asked me to come down while she waited for the cops to show. I'll be back late again. Leftovers in the fridge.___

_--Jenni_

"Go get her, Sammy."

"Dean, I don't think we should…she wasn't very happy when I picked her up yesterday."

"Damn it, Sam, don't argue with me. Please, just go get her."

"Dean, I don't think I should – it's still dark out there, I can hardly see."

"Impala has lights, dude."

"Dean, I really don't think I…"

"Sam, please – I don't like this. Just go pick her up, just make sure she's ok. Please?"

Sam frowned but nodded. He couldn't argue, Dean sounded so desperate – so terrified. "You sure?"

"Yeah, just be careful, Sammy."

"I'll be back soon." Sam promised. He dumped a couple painkillers into his hand and handed them to Dean. "You need to take these – they'll help with the fever."

Dean accepted the pills and nodded. "Go, Sam."

Sam hurried his step, quickly found the keys where Jenni had tossed them the night before and hurried into the predawn morning air. He struggled in his haste to get the keys into the ignition, and he cursed his trembling hands.

As soon as the engine started Sam was pulling the gear into reverse and slamming his foot against the break. The tires squealed and stalled but finally found traction and the classic flew from the drive. Sam sent another panicked glance towards the direction of the cabin as he shifted the gear into drive and drove down the street, it soon blurred in his rearview until he couldn't see it, leaving only a cloak of darkness. He trembled as a cold shiver ran up his spine, he ignored it as he turned back to face the road, slamming his foot still harder against the gas.


	37. Chapter 37

A/N: Well this is it guys – last chapter. Thanks again for sticking with me, thanks to all those who've added this to their favorites list and a big thanks to those who left reviews. Hope you all enjoy the ending.

Chapter 37

It took Sam exactly five minutes to realize that something wasn't right. He wasn't even halfway to Dolly's house when he found himself easing on the break, for reasons he didn't quite understand. He turned the wheel gently, pulling over to the nearest curb then shifted the gear into park, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel, trying to grasp whatever it was that was nagging at him.

The way Dean was acting, fever or not, was unusual. Dean was usually hidden under a calm façade, not that Sam couldn't see through it – he could, but it didn't stop Dean from doing it anyway.

The wild blown eyes had struck a fear into Sam's chest, the sheer panic that had been rolling off Dean in waves, the urgency and insistence on Sam's departure. Almost as if he was sure that something was going to happen if Sam didn't do as he was told right away. Perhaps it was the uncharacteristically blind panic that struck Sam as odd, the feeling that put him on edge.

He frowned, glancing in the rearview mirror, seeing only his own panicked filled eyes and the blackness of the street behind him. Something still felt off, he wasn't sure why.

Dean had been so insistent that Sam be the one to leave, even after Sam had told him that his vision was compromised under the best of circumstances when the sun was out. For him to be driving in the dark, even with the impala headlights, he was struggling. But Dean had been insistent, not even seeming all that worried that Sam could easily wrap Dean's classic around one of the many surrounding trees.

Fever or not, Dean was more careful about his baby than that. Injured leg or not Dean was always insistent on driving whenever the occasion arose – hell, he'd had worse injuries and still insisted on driving. Since when had a injured leg and arm been enough to stop Dean from settling behind the impala's wheel? Dean never felt more comfortable than when he was behind the wheel.

When Dean had told him to go pick Jenni up yesterday, it was almost as if he were testing Sam – to see if his vision had improved enough to drive the impala again. For some reason he wasn't willing to share why, but Sam was sure he was missing something important. It was nagging at him, teasing him, just out of his reach – no matter how hard he tried to grab it.

Dark trees loomed on either side of the car; hiding it in the black of the predawn night. The streets were even darker, making it impossible to see more than a couple feet away, even the occasional street lamp didn't offer enough light for him to see clearly. He clenched his jaw together and tightened his fingers around the steering wheel.

"What the hell is going on here, Dean?" Sam muttered to himself, squinting into the darkness.

A soft breeze blew through the trees, sending waves of dead leaves skittering about the asphalt and over the hood of the impala. Sam leaned back against the bench, closing his eyes briefly before opening them to stare at the ceiling, his mind spinning.

Dean had been acting off for a while, Sam knew that, but he had just summed it up to injuries, on both of their parts. Either that or it was Dad again, Dean was really struggling with John's death, whether he was willing to admit it or not. It would certainly give him an excuse for some of the behavior – but others were so uncharacteristically like Dean that it set Sam's teeth on edge.

As he sat there, drumming his fingers on the wheel and watching the leaves dance in the wind, the radio began to buzz angrily. Sam glanced at it, his eyebrows raised – he slowly twisted the knob, turning the volume up a bit. The news broadcast that was trying to break through the static was broken up, and barely audible. Just like it would be if…

"Damn it!" Sam yanked the car back into drive and spun the wheel as hard to the left as he could. The classic groaned under the pressure, her tires squealing, the engine giving predatory growls as she was spun around back towards the cabin. Sam's foot slammed against the accelerator, making the car jerk forward in an uneven motion as he ended the turn about and straightened the Chevy out.

"God, damn it, Dean. Why the hell didn't you just say somethin'?" Sam growled ignoring his aggravated vision; the adrenaline that was suddenly surging through his system was making it easier to see – clearing all his senses. He could smell the musty smell of the interior of the car more clearly, hear the buzzing static as it continued through the radio, feel the vibrating of the wheels as they beat against the asphalt. He had to tightened his hands as hard as they could go around the wheel as stressed sweat made his hands slick, he didn't care, he had to get back to his brother.

He couldn't believe he hadn't figured it out until now, how could he have missed all the signs? Dean's agitated mood, the stress, the restlessness, hiding behind a fake façade, insisting that Sam drive the impala. They were all major indicators now that Sam looked back on them. He had just turned his head the other way when Dean had pulled them, or had so casually assumed that something else was bothering his brother – his injuries. Dean always became more agitated when his hunter senses kicked in, especially if Sam was in the facility. So what else would big brother do but send Sam away? Out of danger's path?

Driving the impala the day before had been a test, to see if Sam's eyes could handle the stress. Dean had been so insistent because he had felt this coming, had known it would strike soon – and it wouldn't stop until it finished off every last one of them. So when Dean had stumbled into the room that morning, delusional with fever, it hadn't been an act – Dean's senses were ringing and he was desperate to get Sam out of the cabin. Not to get Jenni necessarily but to get Sam out of danger's way, while staying behind to face it himself when he could barely walk.

"Damn it!" Sam muttered again if for no other reason than to break the constant buzzing of the static filled radio. Impatiently, he flipped the knob and turned the damn thing off completely.

It didn't take him long to reach the cabin, he hadn't gone that far – just far enough that he wouldn't be able to see or hear anything. The engine roared again as he pulled into the drive at an odd angle, Sam shoved the gear into park, making the classic roll forward slightly before settling as he yanked the keys from the ignition.

The door squeaked loudly in the suddenly still morning. No breeze blew here, the leaves were frozen on the hard dead grass, no animal made a noise, no curtain fluttered. Sam couldn't detect a light coming from within the cabin, he wrapped his arms around himself, hugging himself in an attempt to keep out the sudden chill.

"Dean!" Sam started towards the house, picking up a quick jog. His heart froze as he caught sight of the front door. It was hanging only a single hinge, tilted at an odd angle, swinging back and forth even though there was no breeze. Blood was splattered around the knob, as though someone had been trying to get out when they had been attacked. Sam swallowed hard, feeling bile building in the back of his throat and burning his esophagus. "Dean!"

He pushed past the door and entered the cabin, stepping on bits of debris. Shattered glass covered most of the floor, chunks of wood were scattered about in odd places, and the gory sight of fresh blood was splattered on almost anything.

Sam could feel his heart beating painfully in his chest at the thought of whose blood this could be. He hated to think that all of it could be Dean's, if it was – Sam pushed the thought away. He wouldn't loose his brother to this thing, he couldn't.

"Dean! Answer me, damn it!" Sam continued to make his way through the cabin, running his hands along the walls, wincing as he hit the sticky patches that met his palms every few feet. He could feel the blood drying on his skin, making it stiff, and making his stomach clench.

He made his way to where the bedrooms used to be, although part of the ceiling looked like it had caved in, making it hard to tell. The door to Jenni's bedroom was now lying on the floor, the windows on the far side of the cabin had been smashed in and any furniture by that side of the cabin had been demolished. The bed was tilted on its side, the blankets, sheets, and pillows all lying in heaps on the floor. Blood covered most of them.

"Dean?" Sam tripped as he entered the room, and barely caught himself on drywall and plaster. He could hear the support beams creaking with the weight they were being forced to hold, and he knew they wouldn't support it long. He had to find Dean and get out of here.

Sam fell to his knees when he reached the tangled blankets, shoving them roughly aside, but found no sign of Dean. Other than the sticky blood that was drying on everything there was no sign of human life. Sam's breathing became more laborious as he climbed to his feet and started staggering to the door again, holding a hand to his side and gripping at his t-shirt. His head was spinning, he felt sick, the smell of decay hung heavily in the air. He was finding himself having to swallow more frequently to keep the bile at bay, but he didn't know how long he could hold it off.

He stopped just short of the door, placing his head against the plaster, breathing deeply through his nose, while loose tears streaked from his eyes and ran down his cheeks. The house groaned again as more weight fell onto the support beams. Sam's knees gave out on him, making him collapse to the floor, holding his head in his hands. Dean wasn't here, something had happened to him while he had been alone and injured, and now Sam was going to have to face the world without him. His fingers knotted in his bangs and he pressed his palms against his eyes, not moving as he heard a heavy crack from somewhere within the house as one of the support beams caved.

***

Jenni walked along the dark streets, the occasional streetlight only briefly lighting the path before it faded to dark again. She felt extremely exposed out here, and wished briefly that she had borrowed the impala. Not only would it have stopped Sam from trying to drive it again, but she could have gotten to Dolly's a lot faster.

"Too late now," Jenni muttered, tugging her hair loose from it's sloppy ponytail. She had been in a hurry to leave, Dolly had sounded so desperate on the phone.

Her hair trailed down her neck, falling limply about her shoulders, protecting her neck from the chilly morning air. She hadn't heard any sirens yet, but then again, they probably hadn't made it in. It usually took them at least half an hour before they could be dispatched, then another half hour drive to the lake. With a prowler around and at least an hour's wait for the cops, Jenni could understand why Dolly would want the company.

Jenni's hand slipped into her purse, fingering the Bowie she had found under the pillow in the boys' shared room. She knew it was Dean's, but he didn't need it, and he would never know that it'd been missing. She'd put it back when she went home. But at least this way she had something to protect herself with if anyone tried anything, she wasn't going to allow herself to be another victim, never again.

She was only half a block from Dolly's now, a few more minutes and she'd be inside the nice warm house with a cup of hot tea trying to calm her friend down. She quickened her pace at the thought of it, gripping the hilt of the Bowie tightly in her fist as she walked.

A soft breezed rustled up the ends of her skirt, making it play around her knees. Jenni brushed angrily at it and continued to walk, hurrying to the next available streetlight.

The trees on the opposite side of the street began to bend towards her, making her pause, her heart suddenly pounding in her throat.

"What the hell?" Jenni watched as the trees sprung back upright, as though something had been pushing them down. They swung back and forth crazily, as if they were made of rubber. As she watched Jenni could make out the shadow of something large lurking in them, it's eyes reflecting the light from the dying moon.

"Oh, God." Jenni made a run for it, slipping out of her heels, and dropping her purse from her shoulder as she tried to get to the closest available house.

The harpy launched itself from its hiding place, spinning around mid-flight and diving right towards her. Screeching loudly as she held her front legs out in front of her, talons extended.

Jenni could feel the wind as the mighty creature's wings propelled it towards her, she could feel the frightened tears stinging her eyes as the harpy gained on her. The creature's screech made her ears ring, its stench burned her nose, her heart was jammed in her throat, making it hard for her to swallow. She cried out, screaming for help, but the street was deadly silent.

Jenni's lungs started to burn, her throat dry, and her legs ached as she came into view of Dolly's house. She could've cried out in relief at the sight of it, she pumped her legs faster, catching her toe on the edge of an uneven slab of sidewalk and went sprawling.

She caught herself with her hands before her face could smash against the concrete, but her momentum kept her flying forward, making her scrape every exposed piece of skin that the sidewalk could touch. She could feel the blood surfacing, trickling over her damaged palms and legs, and her lungs seized as she tried to catch her breath.

She felt it a moment before it got to her, the quick gust of wind, the dark shadow that blocked out all light, and then what felt like a large steel trap wrapped around her waist, sharp knives dug into her stomach, making her scream in agony.

The harpy screeched, lifting her head to the night as she secured her victim and propelled herself back into the night.

Jenni felt her insides flip as they were lifted off the ground, she dug desperately at her stomach, trying to get whatever it was that had stuck her out again. Her hands met cold hard talons, strong and unrelenting, she felt her stomach turn at the thought. She'd seen the damage that the harpy could do, and right now she was in its clutches, with serious damage already done.

The harpy swooped back down to the earth, releasing her hold on Jenni when they were ten feet above the ground. Jenni couldn't even find the energy to scream as she fell, it lasted only for a second and then she met the hard ground.

She was winded, she lay gasping, trying to catch her breath, finding it impossible to do. Her hands clenched at her stomach, trying to stop the blood flow that was seeping between her fingers. She could taste the iron in her mouth, and turned her head to the side, spitting out the blood that was starting to pool over her tongue.

The ground shook as the harpy landed, Jenni closed her eyes, praying for it to be over quickly. She heard the talons of the harpy as they scraped across the asphalt of the street, could feel the slight rustle of the wind as the harpy adjusted her wings on her body.

The harpy stretched out her long neck, letting her beaked nose linger right over Jenni's chest, large drops of saliva falling and soaking into Jenni's shirt. She opened her mouth, exposing her sharp teeth and snapped, her teeth sinking into Jenni's shoulder.

Jenni's body arched, but no sound escaped her lips. He wide eyes met the harpy's for one brief moment before they rolled back in her head and her body collapsed. The harpy released her, letting the limp body fall back against the asphalt. She tilted her head, eyeing her victim for a long moment before she spread out her wings and disappeared into the night.

A dark pool of blood began to surround Jenni's limp lifeless body. She didn't move except for the slight shallow moves of her chest as she breathed, and as the sun finally met the border of the horizon, she stopped moving altogether.

***

"Sam?"

Sam's head jerked at the sound of his name, he lifted his face from his knees and gingerly unwrapped his arms from around his legs. Not daring to give up hope, but afraid to believe.

"Sam!"

"Dean!" Sam pushed himself to his feet, leaning a hand against the crumbling wall as a brief support.

"Stay there, I'll come to you."

The cabin groaned and cracked at the far end, Sam heard something collapse, making the cabin shake for a second.

"Sam, where are you?"

"Right here," Sam stepped towards the door, holding his arm out, waiting for his brother to meet it.

"Keep talkin', I'm almost there."

"Are you ok?"

"I'm fine, bitch didn't get me."

"What the hell happened here, Dean?"

"Long story."

"Yeah, well start talking."

A strong hand found his wrist, and clenched it firmly in a death grip. "Not here." Dean panted looking up this brother's puffy and slightly swollen face. "Freakin' place is about to collapse. We gotta move."

Sam allowed Dean to lead him out into the hallway, gingerly feeling his way along with his feet.

"Did you get Jenni?"

"No, I didn't."

Dean stopped and turned to glare at his brother, his fingernails digging into Sam's soft flesh. "Why the hell didn't you get her, Sam? I told you to get her."

"Well then we can go get her, but I was more worried about you!"

"You shouldn't have been."

"Yeah, well, from the looks of things I had good reason."

"You can't follow one freakin' order can you, Sam? There's a reason I sent you to get her."

"Why? So you could deal with this on your own?" Sam gestured to the crumpling house, glaring angrily at his sibling.

Dean's eyes narrowed marginally. "If it kept you safe, then yes."

"You're such a friggin' jerk, Dean, you know that?"

"Yeah, well," Dean gripped Sam's wrist tighter and started to walk again but Sam dug his heels into the ground and yanked his arm out of Dean's grasp.

"Sam, not now – we gotta shake our tails or we'll be pancakes."

"This isn't going to bring Dad back, Dean, killing yourself won't bring him back."

"Shut up."

"You think this is gonna solve anything? Taking these risks? Doing what you're doing? Do you think this is what Dad would've wanted?"

Dean squared his jaw and clenched his fists, glaring angrily at his brother. "I said shut up."

"You know what that'll accomplish if you succeed in killing yourself, Dean? Nothing – it'll all be for nothing, Dad's life would have meant nothing. He'd have sacrificed it for no reason, kind of a waste don't you…"

Sam cut off as Dean's fist flew at him, Sam ducked, but just barely. Dean's fist rustled the hair on his head. He rose slowly, facing his brother, ready to take it if Dean wanted to dish it out.

Dean didn't move, he just glared darkly at his brother as Sam slowly straightened out, his jaw muscles bulging with the force he was putting in behind clenching his jaw.

"You want to take another swing, go ahead."

"I'm not gonna take this crap." Dean turned around, heading for the exit.

Sam lunged at him, wrapping his arms around his brother's waist and bringing them both crashing down onto the scattered debris and ruined furniture.

"What the hell is the matter with you?" Dean shoved Sam off him and rolled onto his side, pushing himself up onto his knees.

"Me? What the hell is wrong with me?" Sam snapped getting quickly to his feet and rushing his brother again as Dean started to rise. The brothers crashed into the wall, sending bits of plaster flying.

"Yes, what the hell is wrong with you." Dean pushed back this time, driving Sam into the opposite wall, and pinning him there. Gripping the front of Sam's shirt in his fists and staring his brother down, not caring at all about the three inches that Sam had on him.

"You're a selfish bastard, that's what's wrong with me." Sam grabbed the front of Dean's shirt, twisting it in his fists. "Where'd she get you this time, Dean, huh? Where? How bad is it?"

"I told you she didn't get me, Sam. What's it gonna take to get you to listen?"

"Maybe the truth? I saw the blood, Dean – it's everywhere."

"It's not mine."

"You were the only one here!"

"No I wasn't." Dean pushed away from his brother, and tugged at his shirt to straighten out the wrinkles. "Cops came by not two minutes after you left, wanted to see if anyone was home I guess. Harpy gave them a friendly greeting."

"So where are the bodies?"

"Salted and burned in the back, I was out there when I heard you come in."

"So why didn't she come after you?"

"She did."

"And she didn't get you?"

"You wanna check me over?" Dean held out his arms exposing his entire torso to his brother.

"How'd you get away?"

"She tried to come in through the window, flipped the bed, I think I tore some stitches, and I banged my head on the freakin' desk, but the bitch didn't get her claws on me."

"There was so much blood, Dean."

"One of the cops tried to escape from the harpy, she crashed through the roof, caught him in the chest. He came stumblin' into the room, bleeding out. He saw me and he…" Dean's eyes glazed over for a minute and he looked down at the floor, studying his boots for a brief moment before meeting Sam's eyes again. "He begged me to help him, Sam, but I knew I couldn't do anything. The wound was fatal. He collapsed right as he got to me, and died before I could get a good look at him. I found his partner out here in the hall, his intestines had been ripped out."

"There was nothin' you could've done, Dean."

"Sam, that would've been me if those guys hadn't come here. She was gunnin' for me, they just distracted her."

"So she just left?"

"Yeah, it was weird, she just seemed to taste the air for a minute and then took off. I don't know where, but she was in a rush to get out of here. So I went to take care of the cops and then I was gonna go try to find you."

"Dean, I…"

Dean held up his hand, silencing his brother. He cocked his head to the side, listening intently and was suddenly yanking his brother from the wall, pushing him ahead of him.

"Run, Sam! Go, go, go!"

Sam heard the loud crack then and felt bits of debris smack him on the head as he ran for the front door, Dean on his heels.

"Hurry up, Sam!"

The cabin roof collapsed with a heavy groan. Wood beams smashed, walls crumbled, whatever glass had survived the first attack now shattered. It was a cacophony of noise that was loud enough to wake the dead.

As he reached the front door he felt a strong hand suddenly on his back and he was shoved forward with brutal force. He lost his footing and fell down the front porch steps, instinctively rolling into a small a shape as he could. He felt every sharp step that jarred into his back, and the hard cement as he finally reached the bottom of them, he continued rolling until he met the grass.

He unrolled himself then, gingerly testing to make sure he was nothing more than bruised, then looked around to check that his brother was uninjured as well. But Dean wasn't there.

"Dean?" Sam sprang to his feet, looking wildly around.

The collapsed cabin was nothing more than a pile of rubble, nothing had survived the downfall. Sam started for it, starting in the first place he had last had his brother with him. "Dean!"

Sam hurried up the porch steps, cursing under his breath and started searching for his brother amongst the debris. "Dean, answer me, damn it!"

The sun met the horizon, sending long orange rays of light dancing across the sky, and lighting up the remains of the cabin.

Sam had to squint his eyes against the bright light and dropped to his hands and knees, brushing aside large chunks of wood and plaster.

"Come on, come on, don't you do this to me now, Dean. Don't you do this!"

Sam knew that Dean couldn't be far, they had been close to the door when Dean had shoved him through it, so if he was underneath the rubble he'd have to be close to the entrance right?

He shifted a large wooden board, and froze, seeing a glint of silver on the extended right hand belonging to his brother. The rest of Dean was still buried, Sam became frantic, touching the hand briefly, but getting no response.

"Hang on, Dean, I'm gonna get you outta here."

Sam worked quickly to remove all chunks of plaster and wood from his brother's body. Growing more panicked as he continued to call and got no response from his brother.

As the last piece of debris was removed from Dean's body, Sam felt his knees give way as he collapsed next to his brother's still body.

Dean wasn't moving, wasn't breathing. Blood was caked all over his face. His face was starting to swell and turn purple, his lips were slightly open, and the bottom one was split. Blood was soaking the side of his shirt, staining it a dark crimson as a deep wound just below his ribs continued to ooze.

Sam closed his eyes briefly and ignoring all the small voices in his head telling him not to move his brother, he grabbed the sides of Dean's face and turned it so he could see him better.

"Dean, please, open your eyes big brother. Come on, don't you do this – not now, don't you do this to me!"

Dean's cheeks were cold under Sam's touch, and he felt himself choking in spite of himself as he leaned an ear down to listen for breath sounds, coming up empty.

"Dean, damn it, don't you do this – you don't get to do this to me!"

Sam's hands trailed down to Dean's neck, trembling as they felt about his cold flesh, searching for a vein. He had to struggle to find it, but when he did he closed his eyes and waited. Holding his breath, praying, and letting out a small sob a moment later, looking back at his brother's utterly relaxed, blood splattered, all too still face.

"Dean, please, don't leave me."

***

"Come on, Dean, don't do this – breathe, damn it!" Sam's fingers released the hold they had on Dean's weak, thready pulse and moved back to his brother's face. He held Dean's cheeks in his palms, giving his brother a firm shake. "You don't get to do this, Dean! Not now!"

Dean remained unresponsive and unmoving in Sam's grasp, his head rolling limply on his neck.

"Dean!" Sam's thumbs brushed the skin just under Dean's eyes, shaking him again. "Damn it, don't you dare do this to me! Not now, not because of me!" Sam gently lowered Dean's head back to the ground and tilted his chin up slightly to open Dean's airway.

He pinched Dean's nose closed with his thumb and index finger, and blew a deep breath into Dean's mouth. From the corner of his eye he saw Dean's chest rise and fall as the air was pushed into and released from his lungs. Sam blew in another breath and paused, leaning his ear against his brother's mouth, listening for breath sounds.

Nothing.

"Come on, Dean, fight!" Sam blew in another lungful of air, a second quickly following and listened.

Still nothing.

Panicking, he slid his fingers back to his brother's neck, searching for the carotid artery. The pulse was still there, weak, but there.

Sam pinched his brother's nose closed again and breathed into his mouth, pushing down the panic that was making his own chest clench painfully.

No breath sounds.

"Dean, you fight this, damn it! Don't you do it – don't you leave me here alone!" Sam's panic quickly turned to anger and his fist smashed against Dean's sternum. "I swear you leave me here and I'll freakin' paint the impala pink! I'll toss all your Zeppelin tapes into the fireplace! I'll…I'll…" Sam broke off, a loose sob catching in his throat as his hand gripped the front of Dean's shirt and crinkled it up in his fist.

He gasped for air, his little rant leaving him breathless, angry tears pooled in his eyes, and his jaw set. "I'm not letting you go, Dean, it's not your time to go yet! You're not leaving me here! Do you hear me? You're not! I won't let you!"

Sam tilted Dean's head back once more, pinched his nose, and breathed.

He could've cried out in relief when he felt Dean's body jerk under his, felt his brother start to buck under him as his lungs struggled for air. He pulled back, quickly turning Dean onto his side and gripping the back of his neck firmly.

"That's it, Dean, that's it – breathe, just breathe."

Dean coughed, his whole body trembling with the effort of it. His body bucked again as all the remaining air in his lungs was pushed out, leaving his oxygen starved muscles straining. Dean finally dragged in a heavy breath, coughing on it as it passed through his dry throat.

"That's it, Dean, now another one, just like that."

Dean breathed again, his body slowly relaxing as oxygen once again started to flood his system.

Sam held onto him, feeling his overwhelming emotions bubbling to the surface as Dean drew in breath after painful breath. He moved his hand from Dean's shoulder, gently feeling along Dean's back for any broken or cracked ribs.

Dean flinched when Sam reached the bottom two ribs, and Sam cursed and drew his hand back. The bones hadn't felt misaligned, but they could easily be cracked, or badly bruised. He'd have to get a better look when he could get Dean into a more convenient position.

"Sammy?" Dean gasped once he was able to draw in enough oxygen and energy to speak.

"Right here, Dean, just take it easy. You're gonna be ok."

"God," Dean's hands flopped limply in front of him, trying to find purchase on the floor so he could push himself up. "What happened?"

"Cabin collapsed on you." Sam teased up the ends of Dean's shirt and edged it up over the deep wound just below Dean's ribs.

Fresh blood was still spilling from it, running down over Dean's stomach in dark rivulets. "Jeez, I have to get this bleeding stopped. Sam tugged off his t-shirt, wadded it up, and pressed it firmly against the wound.

Dean jerked upright, his eyes popping open as fresh pain seared through his side. "Holy!"

"Dean, just take it easy." Sam pressed on Dean's shoulder, forcing his brother back onto the ground. "I've gotta try to stop the bleeding, you're loosing too much blood. Whatever got you clipped you good."

"Jeez," Dean's head smacked loudly against the floor, making Sam cringe in sympathy.

"Are you hurt anywhere else, Dean?"

"I don't…I don't know." Dean ground out through clenched teeth, gripping uselessly at the floor in an attempt to distract himself from what Sam was doing to his body.

"How's your back feel?"

"Feels like a freakin' cabin fell on it!"

"Ok, I deserved that." Sam lifted the shirt to check the bleeding. The blood flow immediately started when the pressure was taken off. "Damn it, Dean, this is bad."

"Gee, no – no kidding." Dean panted, unable to catch his breath.

"We need to get you some medical help." Sam pressed his hand harder against the shirt.

Dean bucked again, jumping up into a half seated position and grabbing the front of Sam's shirt, panting. His face draining of any color it had gained in the past couple minutes. "crap, Sam – gahh!"

Sam, acting fast, quickly released his hold on Dean's neck and pushed his brother forward, just as Dean's body jerked and his stomach rebelled. Dean retched repeatedly, one hand gripping tightly to Sam's shirt, the other was carefully wrapped around his injured ribs. Sam knew that he was the only thing stopping Dean from toppling face first into the mess he'd just made.

"Just take it easy, Dean, you're ok." Sam assured, tightening his fingers in the fabric of Dean's shirt.

Dean's exposed skin quickly beaded with sweat, and he dropped his head forward, not having the energy to keep it upright.

"Dean, we have to get you to the hospital."

"What about Jenni?"

"We'll worry about her later, but if we don't get this bleeding stopped you're gonna bleed out."

"Feel dizzy."

"Crap, ok, it's gonna be ok." Sam could feel the shivers that were starting to wrack his brother's body. He knew he had to move his brother, the sooner the better. "Dean, where's your phone?"

Dean closed his eyes and breathed deeply in through his nose, trying to stopping the room from spinning and to push back the nausea that was making his stomach roll. "It was in the bedroom."

"Crap, guess we'll have to drive to the hospital. Do you think you can stand?"

"I'm fine." Dean rolled forward onto his knees, wincing as Sam kept a tight hold on his injured side.

"Hey, hey, take it slow – easy, easy…" Sam grabbed Dean's arm and pulled it gently over his shoulder, trying not to aggravate the injuries covering Dean's battered body. It didn't stop the agonized groan from escaping Dean's tightly pressed lips. "I'm sorry, sorry – let's get you to the car."

Dean did his best to help get himself to the car, but after a few short steps, not even enough to get them to the porch steps, his knees buckled and he collapsed against his brother.

"Dean? Dean!" Sam hadn't been expecting the sudden collapse and felt himself falling, instinctively letting go of the wrist he had been holding onto to catch himself, he barely stopped their topple and grabbed tighter to his brother, giving him a small shake. "Dean?"

Dean's whole body was limp, his head hanging low, his chin touching his chest. Blood oozed between Sam's fingers as the shirt he had applied to Dean's wound became saturated in blood. Sam tightened his fingers again, ignoring the blood that was now drying on his hands. "Hang on, Dean, I'll get you outta here."

With one swift movement he had his free hand under Dean's knees, effectively holding his limp sibling in his arms. He stumbled down the porch steps and hurried to the impala, squinting in the bright sunlight as it reflected off the glass.

He had to lean Dean against the car to get the door open, but then he slid Dean into the passenger seat, seating him in an upright position and hurried around to the driver's side. He settled in behind the wheel and started up the engine, pulled the gear into reverse then reached over for his sibling, clamping his hand down on his brother's side again, pulling him closer. They were close enough that their hips were touching, something Sam knew that Dean would never allow were he conscious.

"Hang in there, Dean, we're gonna get you help big brother. You'll be ok."

The front wheels jerked over the curb as Sam pulled out into the street, Dean's head flip flopped and ended up on Sam's shoulder. Dean's warm breath tickled his neck, his blood coated face sticking to Sam's bare skin. Sam hugged his brother tighter and slammed on the gas, shooting the classic forward with a squeal of stalling tires, and large black rubber burn marks on the road.

***

"Get the hell offa me!"

Sam's head jerked up as Dean's voice echoed down the corridor when the swinging doors were opened and Dr. Burken stepped through, a clipboard held close to his chest, a smile on his face.

"Well, guess you heard for yourself that your brother is gonna be just fine."

Sam rose from the uncomfortable plastic seat that had been supporting him for the past couple hours. After hauling Dean's utterly still and limp body into the hospital, and retrieving a fresh t-shirt from the impala, Sam had paced relentlessly, only sitting when his eyes had started to ache. He had settled for bouncing his knee and tapping his fingers on the armrest.

The sour faced nurse was once again at her station, and had been glaring daggers at him whenever she thought he wasn't looking. Sam had ignored her, too worried about what was going in the back with his brother to be concerned with much else.

"He sounds like he's in one of his better moods."

"I'd hate to see him cranky."

"He'll work up to it if he's here long enough."

Dr. Burken laughed. "We'll just have to make sure we get him checked out before he reaches that."

"How is he?"

"He's got a few cracked ribs, a minor concussion, seventeen stitches for that side wound, and massive bruising. He's going to be very sore for a while, I don't envy you having to live with him. Stitches will have to be checked in a week, but I'm assuming you boys can take care of that?"

"We've had our fair share of stitches, we can handle it."

"Thought so, well…" Dr. Burken wrote something on his clipboard. "You can go see him if you want, the sooner you boys get outta here the better."

Sam hesitated, even in Dean's worst mood they had never been so rushed to be released. Dr. Burken might be friendly on the surface but Sam could see he was nervous as hell. He was shifting his weight from foot to foot, his fingers tapping his pen against his thigh, and chewing on his bottom lip. All signs of anxiety.

"Busy night?" Sam asked lightly.

Dr. Burken lost the cheerful façade and dropped his eyes to the floor, studying the tiles for a minute. He let out a soft sigh and turned back to look at the nurse before gesturing to the swinging doors. "I'll take you to see your brother."

Dean's voice was still echoing down the hall when Dr. Burken pushed the doors open.

"Get your freakin' mitts offa me!"

"He's working up to it."

"Hmm…" Sam ground his teeth against the inside of his cheek.

"Where the hell is my brother?"

"Sir, you need to calm down!"

"I'll calm down when you get all this crap offa me!"

"Like I said, I don't envy you having to live with him."

"He's always grumpy when he's hurt. He doesn't like hospitals so he's worse here."

Dr. Burken chuckled, but it sounded strained.

As they came to the last door at the end of the corridor a plump mousy nurse came out, scowling at both Dr. Burken and Sam as she left. She looked hassled, several hairs had come loose from under her hat. Sam watched her waddle down the hall, in what he assumed was an angry retreat, but it was hard to tell.

Dr. Burken allowed Sam to enter first, then followed, closing the door behind him.

"Where the hell have you been?" Dean barked as a greeting.

Sam lifted an eyebrow at him. "Where else would I have been, Dean? I was in the waiting room."

"When can I get outta here?"

"After this bag of blood is gone I'll go ahead and check you out. You lost a lot of blood back there, Dean, there's no rushing that."

Dean snorted and settled back against his pillows. His eyes trailed to his brother, who had stiffened dramatically, it took Dean a minute to realize that the doctor had called him Dean. Not the name that he'd been checked in under the last time he'd been here. He went rigid, his fists clenching onto the sheets as the color drained from his face.

"Maybe you should have a seat, Sam." Dr. Burken gestured to the single plastic chair in the opposite corner.

Sam moved stiffly, feeling as though he were walking through drying cement. He grabbed the chair and set it next to the bed, leaning an elbow onto the mattress next to Dean's leg.

"How long have you known, Doc?" Dean asked, forcing himself to keep his voice steady.

"That you two are wanted by the police? A few days, saw the story on the news while I was getting ready for bed."

"And Jenni?"

"She did a number on that Kory girl's face. Looks like she broke her nose, gave her a couple black eyes, and her cheek is still swollen, she could've cracked the cheekbone."

"So what are you gonna do?"

Dean noticed that Sam's fist had tightened around the light blue hospital blanket, his fingers turning white with his grip. Dean was just as nervous, but wasn't going to flaunt if for the doctor to see. His heart monitor, however, had other ideas and kicked up a notch.

Dr. Burken glanced at the heart monitor then back at Dean. "Calm down, both of you. I'm not going to turn you in."

The brothers shared a quick surprised glance before turning back to the doctor.

"Why not? I heard they're offering a big reward for whoever catches us."

"I don't need the money, and honestly, I can't believe that you two are cold blooded killers."

"You'd be surprised." Dean muttered under his breath.

Sam shot him a warning look. "How would you know?"

"I don't, and if it comes down to the fact that you are, then I'll turn myself in for helping the fugitives escape."

"Dr. Burken you don't need to…"

Dr. Burken held up his hand, silencing Sam's protests. "Now the injuries that Dean here sustained can be summed up to a freak accident. Unsteady building structure, and it doesn't need to be reported to the authorities. Jenni's on the other hand do."

"Jenni?" Both brothers blurted the name out at the same time, Dean shooting upright in the bed and grimacing as the move pulled at his newly acquired stitches. Sam immediately placed a hand on Dean's shoulder and pushed him back against the pillows.

"Jenni's here?" Sam asked meeting Dr. Burken's concerned gaze.

"You boys didn't know?"

"She took off early this morning, went down to a friend's house because she thought she heard a prowler."

"Well something got a hold of her alright. She's in pretty bad shape, multiple wounds to the abdomen and severe hemorrhaging. She's still critical at the moment, but we're doing the best we can to get her stabilized so we can transfer her to a better facility. We just don't have everything we need here to deal with this type of injury."

"Was it the prowler?"

"It's hard to say, the neighbors did find a large Bowie next to her that was covered in blood. They think maybe that the prowler dropped it after he stabbed her with it."

"You don't think so?" Dean hadn't missed the unsatisfactory look on Dr. Burken's face as he had said this.

"The shape of the wounds and the shape of the blade don't match. The wounds are thicker, more round, almost as if…"

"As if what?" Sam prodded.

"If I didn't know better I'd think it was some type of large bird, I've seen some talon wounds before, and granted these are far larger than any I've ever treated, but the shape is the same, and the way that the wounds curve after they enter the flesh seem peculiar."

"But you can't report it as that can you?"

"No they'll have to be reported as stab wounds. We don't have a bird large enough to inflict these type of injuries."

"Is she going to be ok?"

Dean's eyes shot to his brother, he narrowed them slightly as he saw how pale Sam was suddenly looking. He turned back to look at the doctor, shifting his leg marginally so it was resting against Sam's arm. He felt Sam press against him, knowing that although they would never say it aloud, that they both needed the support from the other.

"She's gonna have a long recovery in front of her, but she should be fine. She's still unconscious, but that's perfectly normal after enduring such an injury."

A bit of color returned to Sam's cheeks, but he was still too tense to pass for relaxed.

"Wait a minute, Doc, you said the wounds don't match the blade. How do you know?"

"I've got the Bowie in my office."

"Can I see it?"

Dr. Burken hesitated before nodding once and hurried from the room, closing the door softly behind him.

"Sammy, are you ok?"

Sam's body sagged and he began picking at the cotton blanket, pulling a few strands loose. "I should've listened to you, Dean, I should've gone after her."

"Don't, Sam, you didn't know."

"No, but I should've done it anyway." Sam leaned back in his chair, running one hand through his tangled hair, jerking at a knot when he found it.

"Hey," Dean smacked his brother's arm, drawing Sam's eyes to his own. "It wasn't your fault."

"Dean, if I…"

"Sam, don't, you didn't do this to her. The harpy did, even if you had gone to get her the bitch could've already had her."

"She could've died, Dean."

"But she didn't, Sam."

Sam glared at him. "But she could've, because I didn't listen when you told me to get her."

"Stop it, Sam. It wasn't your fault."

"Dean…"

"No."

Sam dropped his gaze back to the cotton blanket, pulling a few more strands loose.

"What I want to know is where the knife came from."

"You don't think it's yours do you?"

"Freakin' hope not, that's all we need. A piece of evidence linking us to the crime scene."

"How would she even know where to find it?"

Dean frowned, picking at the tape that was holding the IV in place. "Ah, crap."

"What?"

"She must've seen me get it out at the motel."

"When?"

"When we took you to see the eye doctor."

"Ah, crap."

"If she saw where I put it she'd know exactly where to look to find it back at the cabin."

"So what are we gonna do?"

"Well, first we're gonna get me outta here. I'm not staying a hospital where the nurses aren't even hot. Then we'll go get whatever we can salvage from the cabin and go after the bitch."

"Are you kidding me?" Sam's eyes trailed over his battered sibling's face. Not missing the swollen and cut skin under one eye, and the dark bruise hiding just under the collar of his hospital gown. "Have you seen yourself, Dean? We're in no shape to go hunt this harpy."

"Sam, she's gonna keep on killing people until she is stopped."

"I could try Bobby again."

"Sam, you told me yourself that no one is going to be available for at least a week. What are you gonna do? Keep people locked up in their cabins the whole time – oh wait I forgot. A structure of sticks isn't gonna stop her."

"That's not very friggin' funny, Dean."

"You're right, it's not. This isn't a joke, Sam, we're talking about innocent lives here, lots of them. You just wanna leave that up to fate? Tell the poor jerk's family that we found his corpse torn apart out in the woods?"

"I'm just sayin' that we aren't in the best of shape to do this."

"It's just another day in the office, Sam, a dangerous one, but this is what we've been trained to do. What Dad taught us to do. Saving people, hunting things…"

"Yeah, but you're talking about going after the harpy tonight, Dean."

"Tonight is as good as any other."

"Dean, a freakin' cabin fell on you! Do you remember that?"

Dean's face puckered as though he was sucking on something sour. "No, think I missed that, thanks for the news flash, Samantha, anything else I should know about?"

Sam glared at him, grinding his teeth. "Do you know how close I came to loosin' you, Dean? Do you have any idea what that felt like?"

"I wasn't going anywhere, Sam."

"You can't control everything, Dean."

"No, but I wasn't about to roll over and die either."

"That was a stupid ass move, Dean, why the hell did you do it? Did you think about what could've happened at all?"

"Sure I did, it was either both of us get crushed, or I get your heavy ass outta the way. It was goin' down too fast, I knew that both of us wouldn't have made it outta there. Better you than me."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean? You don't care if you live or die? Is that it?"

Dean locked his gaze on the IV pumping the blood into a vein in his hand, keeping a stoic face.

"That's it isn't it? You don't care!"

"I'm not even supposed to be here, Sam."

"What the hell are you talkin' about?"

Dean was saved from answering when the door opened and Dr. Burken stepped inside, holding a plastic bag with the Bowie inside it. Even from across the room, Dean could see the fine layer of dried blood coating the usually spotless knife.

Dr. Burken set the bag on the bed next to Dean's leg, and nodded towards it, not speaking.

Dean reached down and picked up the bag, studying the knife as he turned the bag over and over, he had no doubt that this was indeed his Bowie. He lifted his eyes to meet Sam's briefly before looking back at the knife.

"What time are you calling the cops?" Sam asked turning his attention back to Dr. Burken.

Dr. Burken glanced at the blood bag hanging next to Dean's bed. "A couple hours probably, I'd prefer you boys weren't here when I call." He gave a slight jerk as his pager beeped, he pulled it from his waist and glanced at the number. "Sorry, boys, I have to go."

"That's fine, Doc, thanks."

Dr. Burken nodded at them and left the room.

"Why don't you get back to the cabin, see what you can salvage."

Sam glared at him. "Why?"

Dean lifted his eyebrows slightly and studied his brother. "The sooner we get our stuff and kill the bitch the sooner we can hit the road."

"I don't think we'll be going far, Dean."

"Yeah, well I'd rather not be close when the cops show up either."

Sam sighed and shook his head but stood. "Fine, I'll see what I can do."

"Here, take this." Dean handed over the bag with the blood-encrusted knife.

Sam didn't argue. He knew the danger of having one of their weapons at a crime scene, it was best to remove it. He wrapped the bag tightly around knife and shoved it into the waistband of his jeans, tugging the bottom of his shirt over it, efficiently hiding it from view.

"I'll be back as soon as I can, Dean."

Dean leaned back against the pillows blinking heavily.

Sam walked reluctantly to the door, giving his brother one last glance over his shoulder before leaving the room.

***

Sam followed his brother into the thick brush, keeping a sharp on Dean's strong limp. He knew from experience that Dean was doing his best to try and hide how badly he was hurting for the sake of getting the harpy, but Sam wasn't fooled.

It hadn't taken him long to rummage through the remains of cabin, coming up with both of their duffels, relatively unscathed, and even a few of Jenni's belongings. He had returned to the hospital to find Dean sleeping, and had stayed with him until Dr. Burken had come in and removed the last IV that had been attached to his brother.

Dean had been somewhat unsteady, and extremely grumpy at the abrupt awakening. Dr. Burken had apologized, but had explained that he was pushing his time limits as it was and it would be best if the brothers were long gone before he called the police.

Sam had taken it all in stride. Helping Dean change out of his hospital gown before helping him out to the waiting impala, where, despite his injuries, Dean had insisted on driving. Sam hadn't argued with him, not wanting to push Dean's already testy mood. He knew that their best chance to get the harpy would be after nightfall, so they'd have to stake out in the impala until the sun set.

Dean had found a secluded area to hide the impala, not too far from Jenni's cabin. He had wanted to stay close to the harpy's latest attack site, knowing all too well that the smell of blood still lingered there and was bound to lure her in. Of course, she would wait until nightfall before she made her move, letting the cover of darkness hide her massive body.

They had spent the rest of the afternoon resting up, Dean easily melting against the driver door with his head resting against the cool window glass. Sam had sat up for a long time, simply watching Dean's chest as it rose and fell evenly.

Eventually the rhythmic pattern had lulled him to sleep and he had woken when Dean had smacked him not too harshly on the chest. Sam was surprised to see that night had fallen, and had sat up rather groggily, blinking the last of the sleep away from his eyes and staring through the windshield to the massive trees that were looming just a short distance away.

Dean hadn't wasted time but had hobbled around to the trunk and had retrieved the blessed machetes. Sam joined him by the time Dean was tying the sheath around his waist, and did the same with his own machete. Dean then handed him a flashlight and had slammed the trunk heading off in the direction of the cabin, with Sam close on his heels.

Which brought them to where they were now, treading through the thick brush, barely able to see with the thin beams of their flashlights. The moon was hidden behind dark storm clouds, which threatened to break at anytime if the approaching thunder sounds were anything to go by.

Sam hoped that the storm would hold off until they had finished off the harpy. If it started raining before it would make burning her remains almost impossible, and would make fighting her much more difficult.

Dean didn't seem to share Sam's worries, he pressed on ahead, keeping his flashlight out in front of him with one hand, and pushing aside the overhanging branches with the other. Even from a few paces away Sam could hear Dean's labored breathing, it made his insides clench slightly, but he knew better than to mention it.

He knew that neither of them were in the best shape to do this – he could barely see and the dark shadows that were bouncing from the trees weren't helping anything. He knew that Dean wasn't fairing much better, Dean was barely on his feet – Sam would have known that even if he couldn't see his brother stumbling along.

Dean's injuries were serious, and his body was still beaten and weakened by the collapse of the cabin earlier. Sam knew that the bags of blood had helped, but not enough – Dean really needed more down time, they both did. They were very likely signing their death sentences by going out when they were both injured and weakened. This harpy had been by far the hardest thing they'd faced since they'd come face to face with the yellow-eyed demon.

But Dean was right, if they didn't stop her now she'd keep killing people. He knew what John would've done if he'd been in the situation – hell, if John had been there the bitch would've been taken care of already. Injuries be damned. That's who John was – take care of the threat first, treat injuries after. Something that he had drilled repeatedly into his boys' heads time after time – take out the evil before tending to the wounded, otherwise you could end up just as bad off as they were – or dead.

Sam had had to learn that the hard way on one of his first hunts. Where as Dean had started hunting at an earlier age, Sam hadn't been allowed to come until he had hit adolescence. It should've been an easy hunt – a simple salt and burn, but things never went to plan.

While John had been digging, Dean had stayed up top with Sam, keeping watch. Sam had been in one of his stubborn moods, not wanting to be there in the first place as he'd missed an important math test, which had meant most of his grade. John had insisted, and hadn't been impressed with Sam's attitude. It had lead to a lot of tension between the two, and as usual Dean had been the one to intervene.

It had put Sam in a testy mood with his brother as well, claiming that Dean always sided with John. Dean had tossed a canister of salt at him and told him to zip it. He had then strayed off a few headstones away, his posture tense, and alert. Sam had slumped down next to the closest headstone to the open grave that John was working on, and had casually twirled the canister of salt around in his hands, scowling occasionally at his brother's back.

It was when the sound of the shovel had hid something wooden that all hell broke loose. There was a guttural scream that seemed to come from all directions, then Dean's panicked yell, before Sam felt himself pushed roughly from his post as his brother's body smashed into him like a battering ram.

Winded, and shocked, Sam lay on the ground stunned, fighting to catch his breath, and wondering why in the hell his chest felt so heavy. It was only when he looked down to see his brother's unmoving body on top of his own that the reality had set in. Dean wasn't moving – wasn't brushing himself off and making a smart assed comment that would have Sam rolling his eyes. He didn't do anything at all.

He had heard John yelling something, and then a high pitched shriek that had made his eardrums ring before John had come into view, saying something, but Sam couldn't make out the words. His head was spinning in a wild panic, Dean wasn't moving – and Sam didn't dare move him.

He had seen the frustrated lines form across John's brow as he'd yanked the salt canister away from Sam's limp unresisting hand and he'd disappeared from sight again. Moments later, the air was filled with suffocating smoke, and the air was polluted with the smells of burning gas and decay. It had made Sam's nostrils burn, and his eyes water, but he still didn't move. Too afraid of injuring Dean worse than he already was.

John had returned once he had tossed the match onto the decaying corpse and gently rolled the large headstone off Dean's back, relieving the pressure from both his sons' bodies. He had then knelt down beside the brothers, holding a hand to Dean's neck to feel for a pulse, which had stirred his oldest slightly.

Dean had groaned and blinked once at Sam, assessing him with his eyes before closing them and falling back into unconsciousness. When John had declared that Dean needed a hospital Sam suddenly seemed to find himself again. Sheer panic pushing away any fear that had come from not wanting to move his brother. He'd helped John get Dean to the car and had held onto him in the backseat while John maneuvered the roads like a mad man.

It was later diagnosed that Dean had a ruptured spleen that had needed to be surgically removed. It had been a long wait for father and son as they waited in the waiting area, Sam holding his head in his hands while John had paced, giving Sam stern looks every once in a while. Sam had been too worried to take notice, but after Dean's surgery was finished and he had been settled for the night, father and son had returned to the motel for some much needed rest – but it hadn't stopped John from drilling him.

_You could've gotten you both killed out there tonight, Sam. ___

_What did you want me to do? Leave him there?___

_Yes! Only when the threat is gone do you take care of the wounded. It would not have done either of you any good if you'd ended up beside him. If one man goes down you keep fighting until the job is done – that's it. ___

_This is Dean we're talking about!___

_You think I don't know that? It doesn't change anything, Sam. _

Sam stumbled over an uplifted root, coming back to the present. At the time he'd just thought that John had been being the heartless marine – but now that he looked back on it he knew that John had probably given him one of the most important lessons he could have ever learned. It had saved their lives on more than one occasion – several over the past year that Sam could remember.

Ahead of him, Dean stopped short, Sam almost bumped into him, unprepared for the sudden change in pace.

Dean was suddenly rigid, even through his shirts Sam could see his brother's back muscles tensing, and automatically mimicked the position, drawing his machete from its sheath, while Dean did the same. Dean sent a quick glance over his shoulder at his brother, gesturing slightly to the left with his head and clicked off his flashlight.

Sam knew it wouldn't do much good to turn the lights off. It'd make seeing things for him more difficult, and it wouldn't stop the harpy from seeing them. Her night vision far surpassed their own, not to mention that she could probably smell them and hear the blood rushing through their veins. But Sam clicked off his own flashlight as well and dropped it into his jacket pocket, sticking close to his brother now – as much for a guide as to watch his back.

If Dean noticed he didn't say anything, instead he pressed on, pushing aside the last of the leafy branches and coming into a small clearing just shy of the cabin.

Even from a distance of at least a hundred yards Sam could see the massive dark shape of the harpy as she sniffed about the remains of the cabin, stopping in the area where Dean had fallen earlier. Her long tongue slid out of her mouth and touched the dry brown stain, tasting the residue of Dean's blood.

Sam's stomach clenched and he had to fight to swallow down the bile that was building in the back of his throat. It was hard to be sure in the darkness, but Sam was almost certain that Dean was just as tense and repulsed as he was. Dean seemed to hide it better though because he quickly pulled himself together and crept closer, keeping low and hiding in the shadows.

Sam followed Dean, matching stride for stride, being as stealthy as possible since it seemed that the harpy hadn't noticed them yet. She was too preoccupied with the patch of Dean's blood on the floor.

Dean stopped suddenly, making Sam almost run into him again, Sam glared at him but Dean seemed too preoccupied by something else to even notice.

Sam dropped his gaze to the ground to see what Dean was staring at, and immediately wished he hadn't. Even in the darkness he could see the fresh blood that was scattered about everywhere. Almost as if someone had taken a bag of it and blew it up. It was on the ground, the ferns, the trunks of the trees, even a few of the low hanging leaves had quite a bit of blood on them.

Sam knew what this meant, as did Dean – the harpy had gotten someone else. The air was heavy with the stench of rust, salt, and death – smells that Sam had grown accustomed to, but it was never pleasant. His nostrils flared as he breathed in the smell, it made him gag. He opted for breathing through his mouth instead, and when Dean turned back to face him he could see his brother had done the same.

"Keep close," Dean warned under his breath fixing his brother with a stern glare.

Sam didn't need to be told twice, he had no intentions of straying away from his brother. He knew what the harpy was capable of and wasn't in a hurry to see Dean wind up in the same condition as Jenni, or the poor bastard that had just been ripped apart tonight.

The brothers moved around the backend of the house, intending to get to the opposite side where they'd have a better chance at getting to the harpy without her detecting them. They kept their machetes close to their bodies as they darted between the trees and long shadows.

The harpy still didn't seem to notice them. She'd given up on the spot where Dean had fallen and was now shuffling about the cabin, keeping her beak to the ground and sniffing at the dried blood that was scattered on most of the rubble. She licked a few pieces here and there, but seemed to be loosing interest in the place altogether.

Sam knew it wouldn't be long before she wandered off in search of her next victim, they had to stop her before she got the chance. Dean seemed to sense this too and picked up the pace, hurrying into a better surprise attack position. Sam stayed right with him, not paying attention to anything but his brother and the deadly harpy.

A small twig snapped under Sam's boot, he froze, as did Dean. But they knew it was too late. The harpy's head had snapped up at the sound, her eyes quickly jerking in their direction. She opened her beak and screeched, rising up and back onto her hind legs, slashing at the air with her deadly talons.

She could see them, Sam was sure of it, he clenched tighter to his machete, clenching his jaw as he faced her. The ground trembled as the harpy fell back onto all fours, the brothers waited for her to make her move. She didn't disappoint – her long wings spread out and shot her into the air, quickly making her disappear into the dark clouds.

"Damn it!" Dean growled spinning in a slow circle, keeping his eyes on the skies. "Sam, be on your guard!"

Sam found himself backing up, keeping his eyes upward as well, starting to feel anxious as the seconds passed and nothing changed.

The night was eerily still, not even the crickets chirped, almost as if they too were waiting for something to change.

She struck with no warning, not even a light breeze to give herself away. One second the night was empty except for the brothers the next she was flying in, directly at Dean.

Sam saw her a split second before she got to him. "Dean!"

Dean's head jerked as his name was called and he turned, swinging the machete around in a wide arc. The harpy screeched as the blade connected with her wing, slicing off flesh and feathers, both fluttered to the ground.

The harpy's head jerked towards the feathers that now littered the ground, then snapped her beak angrily, and turned her head so she was glaring at Dean with her large red eye. Dean made a split decision and ducked and rolled, feeling a whoosh of air rush over him as the harpy lifted a foot to make a swipe at him with her sharp talons.

He sprang up from his curled up position and swung around with his machete again, meeting the harpy's foot as she swung at him again. Metal sliced through bone but didn't make a clean sweep. The harpy, having jerked back as soon as the sharp blade hit her flesh, reared back, ripping the machete right out of Dean's hands.

She screeched into the night, then brought her head around like a wrecking ball and hit Dean right in the side, flinging him into a tree on the far end of the clearing. He hit the trunk with a thump and collapsed in an unmoving heap.

The harpy used her beak to pull the machete from her foot then quickly snapped the sharp blade, sending shards of it hurtling to the ground.

Sam instinctively flung a hand over his head to protect it from the shards that rained down on him. He could smell the heavy scent of fresh blood hanging in the air as the wound on the harpy's foot continued to bleed.

He shot a look over his shoulder at his brother's unmoving form, his every instinct urging him to check on him, to make sure Dean was still alive. The other part of him told him to finish the job, to take out the bitch before she could hurt either one of them again. He wouldn't be any good to Dean if he ended up beside him.

Not hesitating, despite his still compromised vision, he charged at her, letting his knees buckle at the last second and sliding under her belly, lifting his machete in the process and smiling grimly when he felt the sharp blade connect with her body.

Hot blood instantly gushed from the new wound and the harpy growled, using her wings to propel her into the air, not high enough to disappear from view, but high enough that Sam couldn't reach her. Droplets of blood continued to fall like rain on top of the brothers.

Sam's momentum carried him to the corner of the house. His knees hit the foundation, stopping him, and he was immediately on his feet again, turning around, machete held out before him as he waited for the next attack.

The harpy seemed more wary now, the wound on her belly was deep, and the blood loss would weaken her before too long. But she seemed to sense that the brothers weren't going to just let her escape this time either, she arched her neck and snapped her beak menacingly at him.

Sam clenched his jaw and tightened his hold on his machete, keeping his eyes locked on her. He was ready, he would finish this.

The harpy beat her wings quickly, stirring up a windstorm, trying to push him back, make him loose his footing. Sam dug his heels in, refusing to budge, swinging the blade when the harpy lowered her head again.

She quickly snapped her head back up and out of reach, then circled around the small area, keeping a weary eye on Sam as she did so. Sam was sure that the other was searching for a place in which she could land. She spotted the motionless figure next to the tree and dived towards it.

Sam caught sight of the sudden swift change in the harpy's direction and sprinted towards his unconscious sibling. He knew what the bitch was going to do – use his weakness against him. He had to get to her before she could damage Dean further.

It was a close race, Sam reached the harpy just as she reached Dean's side. He lifted his machete and swiped furiously at large round body, cutting deeply into her flesh and badly damaging her hindquarters.

The harpy screeched in agony before whirling around and growling at him, swiping at him with her sharp talons. Sam arched his body, missing the sharp weapons by mere inches and swung his machete again when he recovered, again hitting his target.

The harpy grew especially angry, hissing at him and spinning all the way around and head butting him with her skull.

Sam felt as though someone had hit him with a truck as he was flung backwards. He lost his grip on the machete as soon as the hard skull hit his stomach, he seemed to be weightless for just a moment before a large tree stopped him, his head snapping against it with a sickening crack. He felt a sharp pain erupt throughout his whole skull for just one moment before his body hit the ground and everything went black.

***

"Sam? Sammy?"

Sam kept his eyes closed, his whole body hurt too much to move, his skull, he was sure, was on fire. He could hear his brother's heavy breathing, as though Dean had just gone through a strenuous exercise session. But for some strange reason Dean's hands felt cold and clammy. _How strange._

Dean's hands were clamped on his cheeks, but his head was still on the ground. Almost as Dean wasn't willing to move him until he knew Sam was ok.

The heavy scent of smoke was clouding the air, and Sam could hear the crackling of the flames. Still he didn't open his eyes. He wished for the pain free oblivion to come for him again, wishing that he wouldn't have to feel the pain that was making his ears ring.

"Sam, can you hear me?"

_Course I can, who can't hear you? You're freakin' talkin' loud enough._

Cold fingers pressed against his neck, not gently either, searching for something that Sam wasn't quite sure of. They must have found it though, because the prodding stopped and cold fingers stayed on his neck, sucking the heat out of him. He wanted to push them off, but found that his arms were too heavy.

Then the hands released him completely, and for the first time he felt the chill of the cold night air wrapping around him. The light drops of rain hit his face as the clouds finally broke. The sound of something rustling distracted him from the wetness that was splattering on his skin, and then something warm was draped over him.

"Come on, kiddo, snap out of it."

Fingers started prodding his head, and he scrunched his eyes as they found the tender spot where he'd hit his head. He wanted to jerk his head away but it felt as though it were detatched, unwilling to listen to any of his commands. Instead he settled for a grunt, it worked, the prodding fingers left the sore spot alone and once again clamped onto his cheeks.

"Sam, can you open your eyes, dude?"

Sam fought against the urge to do that, it felt good to keep them closed. But Dean sounded desperate, scared, so he tried his best to do what Dean wanted. He struggled with them, they seemed to be glued shut, they fluttered feebly but otherwise stayed shut.

"Sam?"

_Just give me a minute, Dean, jeez. When'd you get so needy?_

He tried again to open his eyes, and again found it difficult to do. He didn't have a clue as to why. What'd happened? Did Dean glue his eyes shut with superglue? Everything seemed to be hazy. He tried to make his sluggish mind focus on what it last remembered, but it didn't want to cooperate with him.

He could hear Dean's voice, but it sounded muffled, as though he were underwater and Dean wasn't. His mind drifted away from his brother, trying to find something that made sense. He remembered being woken up early that morning with Dean's panicked face hovering just inches from his own, then going after Jenni. Then the revelation of what Dean had done, had tried to do to save him from the harpy, and getting back to Dean. They'd been in the cabin and then something had snapped and then nothing, his mind felt fuzzy.

_Ah, crap, the cabin collapsed on us. No wonder it hurts so bad._

"Sam! Open your eyes, I know you can hear me."

Sam ground his jaw together, and focused on opening his eyes again. Now that he knew what was going on, knowing why his brother was so concerned he worked harder to do so. He had to let Dean know that he'd be ok. Nothing felt broken, except maybe his head, he was pretty sure that the back of his head had popped off. That was the only reason for why it could possibly hurt this bad.

Sam groaned again as a sharp pain rippled through his skull, making his teeth clamp together with an audible click. He used focused on the pain, forcing it to be source of strength rather than weakness. He channeled all his will into that and found with sudden surprise that he was looking into his brother's desperate and pale face.

Dean was hovering mere inches over him again, his hands still clamped onto Sam's face. It made Sam wonder briefly if he was still in bed and he'd just dreamed the whole day. But he quickly pushed that away. He was lying against dry grass, and rain was still splattering down from the tree branches to drop onto his forehead.

"Dean?"

"Jeez, Sammy, took you long enough."

Sam blinked, slightly confused, why was he on the grass? If the cabin had fallen on him wouldn't he be inside it still? Unless Dean had dragged him out. And where had the smoky smell come from? What was burning?

He turned his head slightly to take in where he was, the first thing he noticed was a large fire that was burning something massive, something that he could make out if he squinted. The harpy's dark body was slowly smoldering as the flames continued to lick at her flesh.

He turned his confused eyes back on his brother, Dean glanced once at the burning harpy corpse then back to his brother. "Yeah, I finished her off while you were out."

"Ugh," Sam lifted a hand to touch his head, wincing when he hit a nasty spot just behind his ear. It felt sticky and warm, he didn't need to hold his hand to his face to know he was bleeding. "It's over?"

"Yep, made sure I got every piece this time." Dean was still staring at him anxiously. Sam felt extremely exposed, as though he were a bug under a magnifying glass – just waiting for the heartless man holding it to fry him.

Dean's gaze didn't waver for several long seconds before it softened, and he released his death hold on Sam's face as though he'd just remembered that he'd been holding onto him. "How are you feeling?"

"Head hurts."

"I figured, you smacked it really good when you used the tree as your stopping post."

"You hurt?" Sam's eyes trailed over his brother, lingering on his brother's chest and watching as Dean inhaled and exhaled easily.

"I'm fine, Sam."

"What happened?"

"Harpy used you as a battering dummy, and you hit a tree. I saw your head snap into the trunk before you fell. I got up and was able to finish her off with your machete, she was focused on you and I got the drop on her. Cut off her head, then burned her, there weren't any missing parts, so she won't be coming back this time."

"You hit a tree." Sam grumbled as he struggled to push himself up onto his elbows. His memory was starting to clear piece by piece and he remembered the sickening thud as Dean had hit the tree and fallen to the ground.

"Nothing's damaged, Sam, a few bruises, but they aren't too bad."

Sam frowned at his brother and looked back to the flames where the harpy's body continued to burn.

Dean began prodding at Sam's skull again, making Sam hiss and pull away when Dean opened the wound to see how deep it was.

"Jeez, Dean, stop that."

"That's gonna need stitches, Sam. It's pretty deep."

"Whatever."

"Come on." Dean urged getting to his feet and grabbing Sam's arm. "Let's go."

Sam was staring at the fire again, watching as the orange flames licked at the harpy's body.

"Sam?" Dean was suddenly concerned again as he followed his brother's gaze to the harpy's burning corpse. "What is it? What's wrong?"

The flames were memorizing, even the light drizzle of rain didn't seem to hamper it in the slightest. The flames were reaching for the sky, sending small sparks towards the leaves that were dangling just inches away from the flames.

"Sam!"

Sam looked back at his brother, his eyes widening a bit as Dean's panicked eyes met his. "What?"

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Nothin'? The way you're staring at the fire isn't nothin', Sam. It looks like you're ready to jump into it or somethin'."

Sam rolled his eyes. "I wouldn't do that, Dean." He allowed his brother to pull him to his feet, swaying a bit as he fought to get his sense of balance again. He felt whatever had been keeping him warm before being wrapped around his shoulders, and this time recognized it as his brother's leather jacket.

"I think we should take you to the hospital, dude."

"Why?"

"So they can sew your thick head up before your brains spill out for one thing, and because I don't know where the first aid kit is for another."

"I'm fine, don't need a hospital." Sam muttered shrugging out of Dean's hold and taking a few shaky steps on his own, heading for the direction in which he was sure the impala was in.

Dean grabbed Sam's arm and spun him around so he was facing the right direction, releasing him when Sam gave him an irritated huff.

Dean rolled his eyes and followed his stubborn sibling, wanting to make sure that Sam wasn't going to hurt himself by walking into a tree. Sam weaved about as though he were drunk, making Dean's stomach clench just a bit more with every step Sam took.

Sam staggered and leaned against one of the trees, resting his hand on his forearm, breathing heavily through his nose.

"Sam?" Dean asked lightly, putting a hand on Sam's shoulder. He could still feel the shivers that were wracking his brother's body.

Sam's knees buckled without warning, and he was suddenly on the ground, his whole body shaking as his back arched and his stomach emptied itself.

"Ah, jeez," Dean muttered and crouched down next to his brother, gripping the back of Sam's neck and squeezing it as Sam continued to empty his stomach onto the dead grass. He had known that it was only a matter of time. He had known that Sam had had a concussion, it was unavoidable, no matter how hard Sam had tried to hide it. He knew his brother wasn't feeling at the top of his game and had wanted nothing else then to lie down.

It took several minutes for Sam's stomach to calm down, but when it did Sam continued to hover over the foul smelling puddle, shivering and breathing heavily, not opening his eyes. Dean sat down next to his brother and gently pulled his brother against him, letting Sam's head rest against his chest. He brushed the bangs out of Sam's sweaty face, and pressed his hand against Sam's forehead.

"Just calm down, Sam, it's ok. You're ok." Dean comforted as his brother continued to trembled against him.

"I – I was – si – sick." Sam groaned, not bothering to open his eyes.

"I know, that's ok."

"Hea – d hurts."

"You've got a concussion, kiddo, you hit your head."

"Frea - kin' tree."

Dean smiled and pressed his palm tighter against his brother's too warm skin.

"Harpy?"

"Harpy is taken care of, dude, remember? We got her."

"You got her."

"You helped."

"Head – hurts."

Dean sighed patiently and nodded, unconsciously resting his chin on Sam's dark mop of hair. "I know, kiddo."

"Sick."

"You gonna be sick again?" Dean asked pulling back and pushing Sam's head off his chest, gazing at his brother worriedly.

Sam shook his head and lifted his eyes to meet Dean's. "'M ok."

"Think the jury is still out on that one, Sammy."

"Tired."

"Let's get you fixed up and then you can sleep."

"Motel?"

"No, we're going to the hospital."

"Cops."

"We'll risk it, we don't have a first aid kit."

"Store."

"Stop it, Sam, we're going to the hospital."

Sam groaned but didn't argue as Dean pulled him to his feet. He swayed heavily, blinking groggily ahead of him as Dean pulled Sam's arm over his shoulders.

_Wow, world is tilting kinda funny. Wonder if that's normal._

"Sam, you need to lift your feet to walk, dude, come on and help me out here."

_Better hold onto Dean, don't wanna fall._

"Sam? You ok?"

_Man he sounds worried, wonder what the matter is? I feel fine. Kinda like I'm floating. Huh, wonder why?_

"Sam? Hey! Sammy? Are you ok? Sam!"

_So tired, I'll just close my eyes for just a second, just to stop the world from tilting. Dean's here, he won't let me fall._

Dean stumbled as Sam's body crumpled against him, his sibling's freakishly long legs tangled together and Sam's head dropped limply onto his chest.

"Sam!" With one swift move Dean used his arm to sweep under Sam's legs to scoop him up into his arms, staggering under his brother's weight, his own injuries forgotten. "Sam, open your eyes. Come on, dude, don't do this. Stay awake."

Sam's eyes stayed closed, his head lolling limply on Dean's shoulder.

"Crap," Dean picked up his pace and breathed a sigh of relief as he spotted the impala where he'd left her. He managed to get his sibling into the passenger seat and hurried around to the driver's side. He pressed his fingers against his brother's neck, sighing when he felt the strong steady thumping of Sam's pulse under his fingers.

"Hang on, Sammy, we'll get you some help." Dean assured as he turned the key in the ignition and quickly pulled the gear into reverse.

The impala growled as she hit the black asphalt, and without even waiting for a completely stop, Dean changed gears and hit the gas, shooting the black car back towards the hospital.


	38. Chapter 38

Epilogue

Sam tried not to blink as Dr. Burken finished his examination on him. The doctor had insisted on checking Sam's eyes after stitching up his head. Sam had told him that things had looked clearer, that colors were vivid, and had asked if a knock to the head could have done that. Dr. Burken had seemed skeptical but as he pulled back, Sam noted that the doctor didn't look so sure of himself.

"Well, they're not completely healed, Sam, but I'd say they're not far off." Dr. Burken sat back in his seat, eyeing Sam curiously for a moment.

"And the headaches?"

"The strain on your eyes isn't as great so the headaches should disappear in the next few days."

"Thanks, Doc." Sam said sliding off the exam table and tugging at the cuffs of his tan jacket.

"You gonna tell me how this happened, Sam?"

Sam hesitated, glancing briefly at the doctor. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"Didn't think so." Dr. Burken wrote something in his chart and slid it under his arm, pushing himself to his feet. "Well, keep taking the pain killers until the headaches are gone. Avoid bright lights, wear sunglasses when you're outside - the usual stuff, just take it easy."

"Sure."

Sam allowed Dr. Burken to open the door and immediately spotted his brother, pacing up and down the corridor outside the room, hands clasped behind his back, chin ducked down to his chest, eyes focused on the floor.

"Sam!" Dean stopped pacing as soon as Sam left the room, hurrying up to his brother and stopping just short of touching him. "What'd he say? How are your…?"

"I'm fine, Dean, a few days and the headaches should disappear." Sam winced, lifting his hand to gingerly touch the bandage on the side of his head.

Dean didn't look entirely convinced, he glanced briefly at Dr. Burken, who nodded once, before grabbing Sam's arm and turning him towards the hospital doors.

"Dean, wait, there's someone who wants to see you – if you have a minute."

Both brothers froze, Dean visibly stiffening. Sam shrugged out of Dean's grasp.

"I'll wait in the car." Sam offered, accepting the keys when Dean pulled them from his pocket and stumbled through the hospital doors.

"She's awake?"

"She woke up during the night. She's due to be transferred first thing tomorrow."

"How's she doing?"

"She's loaded up with enough painkillers to keep a horse happy, so she's not feeling much."

"All right," Dean glanced worriedly over his shoulder in the direction that Sam had headed. "Uh, where's her room?"

"I'm sorry, it's this way." Dr. Burken took Dean through the swinging doors and down the very familiar corridor, passing several rooms before finally stopping in front of one. "Cops have already come by to question her so take as long as you want."

"Thanks, Doc, for everything."

"You're very welcome, Dean, and the best of luck to you and your brother." He held out a hand and Dean took it, shaking it firmly.

Dr. Burken broke the contact first as a panicked yell came from the waiting room. He hurried back through the swinging doors, leaving Dean alone.

Dean took a deep breath, and pushed open the door to Jenni's room, pausing just inside when he saw the small nurse propped up on the bed. She was covered from head to toe in wires, most of them Dean had no idea as to what they were there for, but Jenni seemed unperturbed. Her eyes were darting back and forth across the pages of the book in her hands, she didn't seem to realize that Dean had entered the room.

Dean recognized that tattered book, even if it was a little worse for wear from the collapse of the cabin. "Still haven't finished it? Thought you would've been done by now."

Jenni's head snapped up when Dean spoke and she smiled, closing the book and setting it onto the mattress beside her. "Dean, I was hoping you'd stop by."

Dean walked slowly to the bed, his eyes trailing over the various pieces equipment that seemed to be burying her.

"It's worse than it looks." Jenni promised.

"That's not what I heard."

"The machines aren't doing anything more than keeping track of my vitals and pumping me full of the strongest painkiller I've ever had."

Dean's lips twitched in a failed attempt to smile. He knew underneath the thin hospital blankets Jenni was being held together with stitches and gauze.

"So you two are heading out, huh?"

"We don't like hanging around one place for too long. With Sammy doing better it's time for us to move on."

Jenni became interested in her book again, running her thumb along the spine. "You ever going to be back?"

Dean frowned, chewing on his bottom lip. "I don't know, Jenni. Our job takes us all over the place."

Jenni nodded, still not looking at him. But her eyes were suddenly bright and glistening in the dull hospital lights.

Dean sighed quietly, sitting down on the edge of the bed and tilting Jenni's head up so he could see into her eyes. "Jenni, I'm not good for you. I can't give you anything – and I'm not gonna drag you further into this than you already are."

Jenni sniffed loudly and lifted a hand to rub at her quickly watering eyes. "I know – it's just, things won't be the same without you guys here, you know?"

Dean quirked the side of his mouth and leaned closer, close enough that his hot breath tickled her face. "They'll be a lot easier for you."

Jenni's heart monitor sped up a bit at his close proximity, at the way his lips were so close to hers. She closed her eyes, waiting, feeling his forehead connect with hers briefly before he pulled back. She opened her eyes again, meeting his regretful ones.

"Let's not do something stupid that's gonna tear open your stitches."

Jenni slumped, unable to hide the disappointment as she looked away from him. She knew he was right, it was stupid to take such a risk, especially after she'd undergone such a serious surgery the day before. It didn't stop the dull ache in her chest though.

"Where's Sam?" Jenni finally asked breaking the tense silence between them.

"Hmm?" Dean seemed distracted as he looked away from one of the various monitors surrounding the bed. "Oh, he went out to the car. He banged his head up pretty good last night."

"Is he ok?"

"Yeah, he'll be fine. Minor concussion, nothing serious. He's got a pretty bad headache though, so he went out for some quiet."

"You'll tell him bye for me, won't you?"

Dean nodded, gently lifting one of Jenni's hands into his own, burying it as he wrapped his fingers around her pale skin and squeezed.

"Did you know that Dr. Burken offered me a job?"

Dean lifted his eyebrows slightly, and pursed his lips a little. "He did?"

"Yeah, full time – apparently the nurse out front is finishing her last week then will be heading out on her retirement, he'll need an extra hand around here."

"That's great, Jenni."

"Yeah, looks like we finally caught a break, didn't we?"

"How's that?"

"He told me he knows who we are, Dean, but he didn't turn us in. Anyone else would've. But here he is letting you guys go and giving me a job? That's pretty incredible."

Dean smirked.

"What?"

"What? Nothin', it's nothin'." Dean's smirk grew. He'd seen the way the doctor's eyes had danced when Jenni's name had been mentioned, when his confidence slightly shifted whenever he was close to Jenni. He'd have to be completely clueless not to know that the guy was nervous as hell around her because he liked her. Jenni hadn't quite picked it up yet – but she would.

"What time are you guys leaving?"

"Soon as we can – I should probably get out there before Sam comes lookin' for me."

Jenni chewed her lip, pushing her teeth deep enough into the soft skin to leave little indents there.

"Here," Dean pulled out a folded piece of paper with the brothers' new cell numbers written on it. One of the few things that had had to be replaced after the cabin collapse, so after grabbing lunch the brothers had headed for the closest store and had picked up new phones. "In case you need us for anything."

Jenni unfolded the paper and nodded, slipping it into the cover of her book. "So I guess this is really it isn't it? This is good-bye."

"For now." Dean leaned in once more, slowly, smiling when Jenni's heart monitor picked up a notch. He closed the distance between them, and gently pressed his lips to hers.

Jenni reeled with the gentle feel of his lips on hers, the tender pressure, the ease of how his lips seemed to melt against hers. He was much softer than he'd ever been before – he was usually so aggressive and passionate, but this wasn't about making love, this wasn't about making times last. This was about saying good-bye.

Her tongue caressed his soft lips, they felt pliable under her touch, and it didn't take much to persuade them to open. His hot breath quickly filled her mouth, his scent, his taste, his touch, all made her head spin. She could feel his tongue, but it wasn't as forceful as it had been before. Instead he let her take the lead, and didn't push for more.

It didn't seem to last long, but Jenni's lungs were suddenly straining for air and her heart was beating wildly in her chest. She felt Dean tense and start to withdraw from her. She knew this was the end – the end of her time with Dean, not knowing if she'd ever see him again. The man who had helped her overcome her worse fears – the man that she owed everything to. Her tongue brushed the back of his teeth, tasting him one last time before she felt him completely pull away and rise from the bed.

Dean popped the collar of his leather jacket and smiled down at the blond nurse one last time. "Bye, Jenni."

"Bye, Dean." Jenni's voice was barely more than a whisper. She watched him walk across the short distance of the room, hesitate at the door, then leave without looking back once. "Be safe."

She settled back against her pillows, biting her lip to control her emotions. She closed her eyes, picturing the two of them driving off into the sunset, side by side – just as they were supposed to be. Neither were completely whole, completely ready, but as long as they had each other she knew they'd be ok.

As the soft comforting pull of the painkillers worked their way through her system Jenni's mind began to fade into pleasantness. Later on she would've sworn that she'd smelt the soft leather scent of the impala's interior, felt the gentle rocking motion of the strong steady wheels on the asphalt, sense the heavy beat of Led Zeppelin as it pounded from the speakers, and hear the powerful engine growl as she ate away mile after mile. Inside were two brothers, bantering back and forth, each a vital piece of the other, and always side by side. Just as things were supposed to be.

***

Sam sat in the passenger seat, fiddling with the stations on the radio, waiting for Dean to return. The autumn afternoon was surprisingly pleasant, so Sam had rolled down the windows and stuck the key in the ignition, then began fiddling with the knobs, trying to find something decent to listen to while Dean finished his good byes. He knew that Dean wouldn't be long – Dean wasn't one for drawn out goodbyes. He was a drifter, which meant no serious connections with people. He usually hit hard and fast then would be gone before most girls even knew what hit them. Jenni was different though, Sam had no doubt about that, she'd gotten much further than skin deep – and it was going to hard on his brother.

Dean didn't allow himself to grow close to people, didn't want to be involved. If he got in too deep things got messy – for most girls they'd just look at him as though were crazy. But Jenni – Jenni had gotten in deep enough to screw up her life to help them. Sam had only seen Dean this close with someone once before – with Cassie. After their departure when they'd finished off the ghost truck Dean had been moody and silent for days. Sam hadn't pushed, and he knew that now wouldn't be the time to do so either.

Sam stopped toying with the radio knobs after finding a station he could live with and reached into his pocket to retrieve the dog tags he'd found in his duffel the day before. He'd been quite surprised to see them there, he'd forgotten that he'd tossed them in there for safe keeping shortly after going through the small bag of possessions that he and Dean had retrieved from the hospital before sneaking off with John's body.

He fingered the slightly tarnished tags with his thumb, running his skin over the series of bumps at the bottom before sliding it gently over the engravings. It seemed so odd that something so small, so insignificant to anyone else, could mean so much to him. One small piece of their father, and one that Sam had no intentions on keeping. He knew what he wanted to do with them – but convincing Dean to go along would be a problem. If it came down to it he'd hitch a ride and meet up with Dean somewhere else later, but he wanted to do this. He knew that John would've wanted Mary to have the tags. He fisted his hand over the tags, warming the cool metal with his body heat, and closing his eyes for a moment.

He was startled when the driver's door was wrenched open and Dean settled onto the seat beside him, shutting the door a bit louder than necessary. His face was drawn, his eyes hard, and his mouth set.

Sam didn't say anything, he'd let Dean work things out on his own terms and not Sam's. It was better not to push. He knew that Dean more than likely wouldn't open up to him about how he felt, but Sam knew that Dean knew that he was there if he wanted to, and that was enough.

Dean started up the engine without a word, and reached over to the music up – a classic Dean close down when he wasn't in the mood to talk.

The station Sam had ended on ended it's current song and immediately began with another, starting in with a soft beat. Matching the steady grumble of the impala's engine as she idled in her parking spot for a moment.

Dean didn't seem to notice, he was staring through the windshield, his fingers wrapped around the wheel so tightly that his knuckles were white. They sat in silence, Sam waiting for Dean to steady himself, and Dean too lost in his own head to think of much else. The silence of the car was broken as Seether started in.

_I wanna be the one you need, I wanna be the one you breathe, today's the day we'll fade away, oh._

Dean broke out of his trance and glanced at the radio, lifting his eyebrows slightly and shooting a side glance over at Sam. Sam gave him a half grin.

"You weren't here."

"Whatever." Dean turned the music down a little and pulled the gear into reverse, easily maneuvering the large classic out of the small parking space without damaging any of the surrounding vehicles.

"So, how's she doin'?"

"She'll be ok, in time."

"So what's she gonna do now? I mean, after her recovery? She can't go back to a normal life – not after everything she's done."

Dean flexed his fingers and pulled onto the main road that would take them out of town. "Dr. Burken offered her a job, she'll start once she's back on her feet."

"That was nice of him."

"Yeah, he's gonna need the help. One of his nurses is retiring, with as small as their clinic is and with as much business as they get I'm sure he'll really appreciate having a younger hand around."

Sam studied his brother for a moment, eyeing him critically. "Are you ok?"

"I'm fine, Sam."

"Are you sure? We could've stayed longer if you'd wanted to."

"And what good would that have done us?" Dean asked sending his brother a stern glare. "All we'd be doing is endangering Jenni, Dr. Burken, and anyone else who recognized us, Sam. We don't plant roots – there's a reason for that."

"She really liked you, you know." Sam immediately regretted saying the words as soon as they came out. Instead of making Dean ease up it had the opposite affect, Dean's body went rigid. Sam could see Dean clench his jaw together the way he always did when he was upset over something, he was surprised that Dean didn't chip a tooth he was grinding his jaws together so hard.

"We're not good for her, Sam, we don't need to be here to screw up her life anymore than we already have."

"I know – you're right." Sam looked out the window, squinting at the bright sun and the warm breeze as it ruffled his dark hair.

_But I'm coming back, And I'm taking back everything I can, It's breaking me up and tearing me up, It's all I have and I'm coming back. _

Dean frowned, shot Sam another glance then swiftly ducked down, grabbing his shoebox full of cassette tapes, pulling out the first one his fingers came across and pushed it into the cassette deck.

Zeppelin's _Ramble on_ started with an upbeat tempo, Dean settled back against the seat, smirking as he adjusted his fingers slightly over the wheel. "Ah, that's more like it."

Sam marveled at the way Dean was able to mask his emotions, a quick fix like a Led Zeppelin tape would always put Dean at ease. He saw the slight twitch of his brother's lips as though he were suppressing a smile.

_Leaves are falling all around, It's time I was on my way. Thanks to you I'm much obliged for such a pleasant stay. But now it's time for me to go, the autumn moon lights my way._

"Hey, Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm getting' kinda hungry."

"Dean, you just ate like two hours ago." Sam complained, shaking his head and rolling his eyes. "Can we get to the next town at least?"

"You got enough money in your wallet?"

"For what? You gonna order a cow?"

"Nah, but I'm in the mood for some pie – I love me some pie."

"You know all that crap is gonna clog your arteries and give you a heart attack before you hit fifty right?"

"Who says I'm gonna live that long?"

Sam frowned at the serious note in Dean's tone. Dean was not joking. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Dean glanced at him, lifting an eyebrow. "Nothin', don't get your panties in a twist."

_Got no time for spreadin' roots, the time has come to be gone. And tho our health we drank a thousand times, it's time to ramble on. _

"Dean, what did you mean yesterday?"

Dean tensed, Sam noticed and knew that getting Dean to answer honestly wouldn't be likely.

"With what?" Dean finally asked after several long tense seconds.

"When you said you weren't even supposed to be here?"

"Nothin', don't worry about it."

"Dean, you aren't going to do something stupid are you?"

Dean didn't answer, instead he merely clenched and unclenched his jaw before leaning over and turning the music up loud enough that Sam was sure it could be heard in the next county. He huffed angrily and settled back against his seat, crossing his arms over his chest and staring out the window. It didn't look like he'd be getting any answers from his brother today – and he'd have to wait for a calmer moment before he suggested a trip to Mom's grave.

_Mines a tale that can't be told, my freedom I hold dear. How years ago in days of old, when magic filled the air._

The classic's engine roared throatily as her driver slammed his foot to the gas. She shot forward, quickly fading from view until she was only a small speck against the horizon, and even that only lasted for a moment before she was gone.

The End


End file.
